


Bits of Blue and Gold

by summerborn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Bad Sex, Canon Compliant: HBP, Dream Sex, F/M, Food Fetish, Frottage, Lusty Month of May, M/M, Memory Magic, Oral Sex, Pensieves, Public Sex, Smut, Voyeurism, snupin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-31
Updated: 2009-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerborn/pseuds/summerborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus Lupin, presumed dead after the war, finds himself in need of rent money. He answers an ad and gets into the business of donating memories, but he soon finds them too dear to part with. So he gets into the business of Severus Snape, instead. (Written for Lusty Month of May 2009.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bits of Blue and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> The Lusty Month of May challenge involves posting 500 words or more of smut featuring Remus Lupin every day for an entire month. Please forgive any inconsistencies that arise because of this construction!
> 
> The title comes from Carole King's song "Tapestry":  
> 
>
>> My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue  
> An everlasting vision of the everchanging view  
> A wondrous woven magic in bits of blue and gold  
> A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold
> 
> <http://summerborn.dreamwidth.org/profile>

There was nothing better to take the joy out of a bright May morning than the prospect of being evicted out into it.

Remus Lupin rubbed a hand over his sleep-blurred eyes and read the letter again. Then he put it carefully back down on the floor of the corridor, turned, and went back into his flat.

The owl brought two bills for "Mr. John Price," which Remus considered at arm's length before dropping them onto his kitchen table, and, of course, the Daily Prophet. He'd tried unsubscribing, but the customer service witch had insisted the paper was being delivered to Remus J. Lupin, not to the name Remus had been using since his presumed death, and there was no way he was about to reveal himself just so he could get the Prophet canceled.

He'd been spending most of his time with Muggles in the past six years, and it didn't pay any better now than it had when he was in his twenties. The small fortune Sirius had left him had covered gaps left by his meager income – and the gaps in _between_ his jobs – but no matter how he'd stretched it, he'd finally run to the end of it.

Two months ago, according to the letter from his landlord.

Before he could change his mind, he flipped the Prophet open to the classifieds. A quick scan ruled out the majority of the positions – no one, he knew, would hire him for customer service or anything interfacing with the public, even if he wasn't recognized. After six years, though, he doubted anyone would recognize him except Harry, and he'd left the country last year.

An advertisement caught Remus' eye: "EXC. PAY. Magical study subjects needed, short or long-term. Choose your own hours. GET PAID TODAY," and an address.

On any other day he would have passed it by; on any other day, he hadn't received a pre-eviction notice. The exchange rate for Galleons was pretty good – depending on what "excellent" meant, maybe he could show up, do whatever they needed for one day, and get his landlord off his back for a little while longer.

-:-

An hour or so later, Remus found himself in Muggle London, in front of a plain office front, wedged between a high-end cafe and a solicitor's office. The glass doors were dark, with "Fair Weather Fantasies" in simple but elegant lettering. That gave him a moment's pause – there were, after all, things that he would not do for money, no matter how desperate he was – but he decided he could always say no and walk away.

Remus went inside.

He found a spacious reception area, tastefully decorated in grey and steel blue, very cool, very professional. A tingle of magic as he crossed the threshold told him that this was indeed a wizarding company – the witch sitting at a reception desk, idly waving her wand at squares of paper, causing them to fold up and float off at intervals, confirmed it.

"Good morning; do you have an appointment?" She barely glanced at him.

"No," Remus answered. "I saw your ad in the Prophet."

The witch looked up then. "Ah, for the study? Just a moment." One of the squares flapped its way to a door in the far wall, and a moment later a serious-looking young man in business robes came out, hand outstretched.

Slightly bemused, Remus shook it. "Hello, I'm–"

"Here for the study, yes," the other man said. "I'm David, I'll be your guide today, please won't you come in to my office?" He steered Remus into an office, sparsely furnished, and waved at the single chair in front of what was clearly David's desk.

Remus tried again. "My name is–"

"Not important," the man said, flashing a quick smile. "No offense, but our work is done strictly anonymously. I take it this is your first time here?"

It was then that Remus noticed the half-dozen small jars lining the front edge of the desk. Perhaps he'd made a mistake in coming after all.

"Yes," he replied cautiously. "Look, can you just tell me what it is you need?"

David leaned forward over the desk. "Quite simply, sir, we are looking for donations of a rather unusual kind. You see, we do a lot of work with St Mungo's, research and development, and our current focus is on understanding the way a person's mind interfaces with a spell like, oh, say, the Obliviate charm. You're familiar with that one?"

Remus nodded, mystified. "What sort of donations?"

"Memories." David leaned back a fraction. "If you can find a memory you can part with, we can add it to our bank for testing and analysis – the content doesn't matter quite so much as the feeling it invokes, you see. Our standard rate is twenty Galleons."

Remus had lived a long life, and there were plenty of things in his past he wouldn't mind letting go of... and yet, something nagged at him. To just give up a memory of something that had made him who he was? "Will I lose the memory?"

"Oh, you'd still remember what happened, generally speaking. The brain has a remarkable ability to adapt. You would find that the details were a bit fuzzy, that's all."

Twenty Galleons, Remus thought. "What sort of memory would you want?"

"For a first time, it's always easiest to find a memory that stands out, and provoked strong emotions – the day of your wedding, for example, though most people want to keep those details – or your first sexual encounter." David shrugged slightly. "Of course, moments of fear or extreme embarrassment also stand out for some people."

Remus considered. "Suppose it was something embarrassing. Would I have to tell you what it was?"

"Not if you don't want to. Before anyone else views it, we have a legilimens on staff who anonymizes everything."

That would have to be some legilimancer, Remus thought vaguely. Part of him wanted to get this process over with. He was already recalling a scene, late summer, with a Muggle neighbor, and if you want to talk about "extreme embarrassment..."

"What do I do?" he asked.

"Just concentrate," David said, and his wand was in his hand and Remus didn't remember when that had happened...

-:-

Not a first sexual encounter, then, but this time it was a girl, and Prongs was going to have a field day when he heard about this, but if Remus had anything to say about it then no one would ever hear about this. He'd been kissing Lorraine, they were in his room, she'd been hanging around all summer...

Kissing and more, when she reached under his shirt, slid her hands down across his stomach, obviously heading for something, and this girl – she couldn't have been more than fifteen? – knew what she was doing, or at least had gotten a good tip from her older sister.

Then her hands were in his pants, wrapping around his cock, and she made a noise as she kissed him, kissed his neck, started to kneel on the floor in front of him.

He froze up.

She moved to take him in her mouth, lips parting, and it was supposed to be _enticing_ but he just couldn't and he'd _pushed her away_. She looked up at him in astonishment, then anger, and he sat in mortified silence as she straightened her blouse and stalked out, leaving him hanging out and not even hard, really.

A moment later, he was sitting in the office again, and David put the silvery strands into one of the jars, looking pleased.

Remus put a hand to his head, though rationally he knew he wouldn't _feel_ any different. "That's it?"

David nodded. "We'll stop there for the day, though once you get used to it, we can accept two or even three in a single office visit." He put a lid on the jar with quick, efficient movements, then reached into a drawer. There was the sound of soft clinking, then David slid a small drawstring bag across the desk to Remus. "Give yourself a day or two, and if you still feel like it, come back and we'll talk."

It seemed incongruous, a leather drawstring bag full of gold coins in a modern office setting, but Remus took it and stood up. He felt just a bit on the woozy side, and there was a tickle in his brain as if he were forgetting something.

Lorraine. He cast his memory back, but he could still remember her, and he even remembered the scene he'd let David pluck from his mind. But when he tried to conjure the details of the encounter, it was... just blank, like he was poking his tongue into a gap in his teeth. He still knew the gist of what had happened, but he didn't feel quite as embarrassed about it, since the details were rather fuzzy.

"Shall we say Thursday at eleven?" David was standing, offering his hand. Somehow Remus responded in the affirmative and made his way out of the office.

-:-

Later that evening, he felt much more normal, and had time to think about what he'd done. It wasn't really that bad, he told himself. He hadn't really lost anything, and besides, the memory still existed. It was really more on _loan_ than anything, and it was for a good cause.

By the next afternoon, he had arranged a cheque for his landlord and was standing in the grocery contemplating the purchase of butter – real butter, not margarine – when he decided which memory he would part with next.

-:-

"Just concentrate," he heard David saying, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting himself remember...

If he'd been truly drunk, he wouldn't have remembered at all. But he'd been intending on helping everyone else get home, since Prongs had been indulging rather a lot on their outings recently, ever since his parents died, and Sirius couldn't be counted on to tell them he was leaving before he went home with another tall, willowy brunette with too much makeup on and a neckline too low, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Remus had got to the point where he could scan a pub and know exactly who Sirius would find a way to meet.

It was watching Sirius alternate between _two_ girls that had Remus taking a few too many himself that night – but not enough to really drown it out. Someone had to be able to Apparate, after all.

James had gone to the loo and Sirius had gone for more drinks, stopping to talk to _them_ on his way. Remus turned, feeling slightly sick, and found himself looking into brown eyes, curious and steady in their regard.

Acting on impulse, he picked up his drink and moved to the stranger's table, only realizing as he sat down that the brown eyes were those of a young man. He glanced around, knowing only that he didn't want Sirius to see him at this moment, but then the stranger put a hand on Remus' thigh.

"I've been watching you," he said, keeping his voice low. "Let me guess, you used to make it with the tall one?" He glanced toward the bar, where Sirius could be seen laughing loudly and touching one of the girls on her bare shoulder. His hand lingered.

Remus swallowed. "I don't want to talk about it," he grated, and the other man smiled in response.

"Don't want to talk at all? If the rest of you is as nice as your leg feels..." he gave a slight squeeze, shifting his hand upwards on Remus' leg. "Then I don't mind not-talking, believe me." He stood abruptly. "Come on. I know a place we can go."

Remus stood, only a _bit_ unsteady, and followed. He tried not to glance around again, fought the urge to find James and tell him good-bye.

They were outside for a few minutes, and Remus could feel the eyes of this stranger on him as they walked. He didn't think about what he was doing, didn't want to think. He couldn't be the responsible one _all_ the time. It was too much to expect. He was only twenty, for Merlin's sake.

Just remember this is a Muggle you're dealing with, he reminded himself.

A blurred impression of stairs, and the stranger spoke to someone, and keys and then they were inside and there was no moment of awkwardness, no standing around and offering drinks or any of that. The young man – Remus would have to find out his name, sooner or later, he decided; he just wouldn't feel right otherwise – the young man was on him as soon as the door was shut. He'd been vaguely expecting to start with kissing, but the stranger was focusing on hands: his hands slid over Remus' shoulders, chest, and he was urging Remus' hands onto him as well. Then their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Remus could feel the stiffening length of the stranger's cock against his hip, the fabric separating their skin quickly becoming unbearable.

Remus groaned, casting off any remaining inhibitions. How long had it been since the last time he and... _don't think about him_. He'd _dreamed_ about it for far too long, about the heavy feel of a cock in his hands, the way his own prick had danced when he'd taken one in his mouth, and here it was waiting for him to _take_ and no one was going to stop him or care because no one was going to know.

He clutched at the other man's clothing until he could shove the trousers and pants down, then led the stranger down to the nearest thing he could find. It turned out to be a sofa, though he didn't think he would have cared if they'd landed on the floor. Remus nuzzled the length of the man's cock, letting his chin, cheeks, and lips play over the full length of it, incredibly hot to the touch and better than he'd tried to forget. He clamped a hand around the base of the cock and let his tongue flick over his lips, savoring the anticipation.

"Steady," the stranger managed, sounding breathless. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, but–"

Remus ignored him. He plunged his mouth down, onto the cock, and was rewarded by a gasp and a sudden wild bucking of hips underneath him. He didn't even care what the other thought – the stranger would enjoy it, one way or another, and Remus was much more concerned with his own wishes at this moment.

He sucked, and swirled his tongue over the velvety head of the cock he held captive, and fought with his other hand to keep the man from moving _too_ much. There was a delicious fire growing in his own groin. He savored that as well, knowing that anticipation would not hurt him.

It only lasted a few moments before the stranger was shaking underneath him, clutching spasmically at Remus' head as if he knew he shouldn't but couldn't help himself, which Remus found he didn't mind so much. He let his throat relax, let as much of the full cock as he could into his mouth, and when the stranger stilled, he swallowed the salty fluid and gave one last swipe with his tongue before he slid a hand into his pants.

Quick and demanding, he worked his own prick until he was spurting the fire out, away from his body, leaving him shuddering with release. Vaguely he was aware that the other man was saying something, but Remus was not interested in what he was saying.

He was not so tipsy that he could ignore how he would feel about all of this in the morning. He stood up as soon as he was sure his legs would support him and started arranging his clothing. The other man looked at him in surprise.

"Wait," the stranger said. "You've at least got to give me..."

But Remus had nothing else to give him. He hurried out the door, wondering if it were possible to forget that this ever happened, short of _Obliviating_ himself which was crazy at best and suicidal at worst.

-:-

He came to in the same comfortable but clinical chair in David's office, feeling his face burning. At least he could be sure David hadn't seen what was in the memory, but just knowing that someone else could view a scene from his life like that made Remus feel distinctly uneasy.

The twenty Galleons helped. But only a little.

-:-

After Remus' second donation, David said he could come in the next day if he wanted to. Remus went home and did some serious figuring. He looked at how much would he need to scrape through until after the full moon, under the assumption that perhaps then he'd be able to find some regular work, and then cut his estimate back a bit more. A few more memories – maybe just a few more days if he could do them two at a time.

And then, he promised himself, that was it. He would only strip out the minimum number of memories he had to. And it wasn't as if the memories were truly _missing_... just that the details were fuzzy, that was all.

Remus slept remarkably well that night.

He dreamed of the night he'd donated that day, but it didn't happen the same way at all. Sirius stayed at the table with Remus and James, and they'd all had exactly two too many to drink, which was the perfect number. Sirius hadn't had eyes for anyone else in the entire place, but in the way of dreams that didn't seem strange at all. And James was almost his old self, giving Sirius a hard time and dragging Remus into the conversation to back him up. Remus felt included, and welcome, and even the fact that Peter had backed out at the last minute didn't seem to bother him at all.

Sirius and Remus had helped James home together, just to be safe, and again with the logic of dreams they were walking but it wasn't night any more, it was dusk, with trees all around, which became the Forbidden Forest. A moment later they running through the woods, laughing, and Sirius was Padfoot and Remus was Moony and they'd run and run until they collapsed, Sirius falling over Remus' wolf body with his arms and legs arranged comfortably around him, holding Moony _as Sirius_ , something they never could have done in real life.

It was the most natural thing in the world to find Sirius' arms around his chest, to find himself restored to Remus and Sirius' leg reaching up to lay across his. Then somehow they were face-to-face, and Remus held Sirius' face in his hands. The moment stretched until Remus knew it would be etched into his memory forever: Sirius' grey eyes, lit with tenderness and an emotion they had never had to name. Finally he leaned forward, touching his lips to Sirius'. In the span of a heartbeat, the kiss flamed into passion, and Remus found Sirius' naked body pressed against him. They fit together like they'd grown together, legs twining so that Sirius could pull Remus into _that spot_ , and hands reached for hips and cock and it didn't matter whose because it felt so right.

The orgasm woke him. He had to blink a few moments before he placed where he was, _when_ he was. For a few moments more, he puzzled over the oddness of his dream. Sure, he'd had a rather embarrassing crush on Sirius when they were younger, but they had never looked at each other with adoration in their eyes and confessed their undying love. Especially not Sirius. Remus was a little embarrassed now, on behalf of his sub-conscious, but he figured he would forget the whole by morning.

Which he did.

-:-

The next day, he was standing outside the office again when he paused to wonder why, exactly, a medical research company would have a name like "Fair Weather Fantasies." Remus determined to ask David about it, but the question left his mind entirely when he walked in and found the receptionist – he never had learned her name – talking with an elegantly dressed couple. They were looking at a brochure.

"...the price there is for a private viewing room, of course–" The receptionist broke off when she saw Remus and pasted on a smile. "Please, go on in. David is expecting you." She turned back to the couple, who were eying Remus suspiciously, and said in a quieter voice, "Perhaps you would accompany me?"

Remus pushed open the door to David's office. "Viewing room?"

"Ah," David said, rising to his feet. "A few minutes early, excellent. Let's–"

" _Viewing_ room?"

David held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Let me explain."

"I'm waiting to hear this 'explanation,'" Remus growled.

"All right," David said, dropping his hands. "Let me say first of all that we _are_ working with St Mungo's on a number of research projects, and we _don't_ do anything with the memories we procure that we don't have permission to do." He held Remus' eyes for a couple of heartbeats, until Remus drew in a breath and looked away.

"I suppose that's a good start," Remus said.

"Please, sit down."

Remus settled into the chair and returned his gaze to the serious-looking young man. "So what exactly are these viewing rooms for, then?"

David reached into a drawer and pulled out a glossy eight-by-ten with advertising copy all over it. "Fair Weather Fantasies" was printed across the top, along with bullet points like "

"You must understand," David said, "why St Mungo's contacted _us_ for help with their research. We already had a collection of memories, completely anonymized as I described to you, thanks to our original business: for a nominal fee, we allow our patrons the chance to experience a scene from someone else's life."

Remus thought of the scenes he'd donated in the last few days, and his face paled.

"But as I said," David went on, seeing the way Remus' face changed, "we do not do anything with the memories other than what we have specifically agreed to. You have my word on that."

"Can I have it in writing?" Remus asked dryly.

David quirked a half-smile. "Only if you want a contract, which you would also have to sign, and with your real name."

Remus considered. It was a possibility, but one that would bring in some inconvenience. When it came down to it, his instinct told him he could trust this man. And perhaps it was just as well that there not be a record tying his name to the memories he'd donated.

"We can leave a contract out of this, I think," Remus said. "But I want to see one."

"See one?"

"One of the memories. I want to see for myself what this 'anonymization' process does."

It was David's turn to consider. "I'm not entirely sure they've been processed yet, but I could find out. Yes. Give me a few minutes."

Remus was left to himself for upwards of twenty minutes, long enough to wonder what else David had in his desk drawers, but he shook that thought aside briskly. Finally, David returned.

"Come with me," was all he said. In one hand he held a sample container, with a red piece of tape stretching across the lid. Remus was reminded of a few pre-employment tests he'd had to undergo, but he said nothing and followed David into another part of the offices.

The room they entered was small but rather cozy, with a small sofa on one side, facing an alcove that held a pedestal, on top of which was a Pensieve. Remus recognized the style of the shallow basin, though he had never seen one outside of Dumbledore's office, and the silvery-white light that shone dimly from it.

David shut the door behind them and gave Remus a serious look. "Are you sure about this?"

For the first time Remus realized about what it was he was going to see. He didn't know which memory it was, but either way he would be viewing himself in the middle of a scene he would really rather forget.

"I'm sure," he said.

David broke the seal on the container as he opened it, and tipped the misty grey swirls into the Pensieve. Then he took a step back.

Remus drew his wand, steadied himself, and dipped into the Pensieve.

There was a moment of twisting, falling, similar to Apparition but without the squeezing tunnel-like effect, and then Remus found himself standing in a typical teenage boy's bedroom circa 1967 or so. The layout of the room was familiar to Remus, but the _feel_ was off, somehow. It took him a second to notice that the paint on the wall was the wrong color, the posters were not his, the furniture of a different style. In a dozen subtle ways, the appearance of the room had been altered. If he had not known what he was looking at, he would not have thought it was his own.

A small gasping noise brought his attention to the couple on the bed – and Remus could not hold back his first reaction, which was to clear his throat loudly, as one would if one encountered a teenage couple in such an embrace. His second reaction was to stare.

The girl sat with one leg draped over the boy's lap, with long honey-gold hair spilling freely over her shoulders as she and the boy kissed – enthusiastically, if somewhat clumsily. Remus didn't recognize her at all. Then he looked at the boy: auburn hair, three shades darker than Remus', his skin with a healthy summer glow, and classic, even features that made Remus wonder despite himself what he would look like if he smiled.

The couple broke apart for a breath and Remus chastised himself. "Remember where you are," he muttered to himself. "That's _you_." In the memory, he could walk and speak all he wanted, and those that were part of the memory would take no notice of him. The odd part of this was that he couldn't really remember what _happened_ in this scene.

The girl – Lorraine, no matter what she looked like now – gave the boy a look and kissed him again. Her hands reached up for his shirt, underneath it, and moved straightaway to his trousers. Remus winced on the boy's behalf as he stiffened, obviously not from excitement but from something else: reluctance, fear... it was impossible to tell.

Strange to watch from the outside without being able to remember what he had been thinking.

The girl slid to her knees in front of him, working her hands down. Remus couldn't exactly see what she was doing, but the look on the boy's face told his part of the story: he wanted her to stop.

Remus' own cock, which knew exactly what it would be getting from such a luscious young mouth, began to harden involuntarily. "Terrible timing," he said aloud, taking a step farther away from the couple on the bed. But it was like watching a train wreck – even knowing that this would end badly, he couldn't look away.

The girl stretched her mouth open, and Remus had a good look at last at what she'd been handling. The boy's body was obviously handling the physical aspect of things, his cock long and hard from the attentions of those soft hands. But the moment her lips touched the dripping head, there was a visible flinch, and the boy gave her shoulders a sudden, uncontrolled shove.

The look on the boy's face hadn't changed – he looked equal parts terrified and disgusted, and Remus covered his face with his hand rather than watch the rest. He heard the girl getting up, a rustle of clothing, and then, mercifully, it was over.

He blinked, though the light in the small viewing room was muted.

David was watching him from the vantage point of the sofa. "Satisfied?" he asked.

Remus recalled suddenly why he'd been watching the thing in the first place. He'd read a few journal articles on legilimency, and how difficult it was to fake a memory, which was why he'd been interested in the 'anonymization' process from the moment he'd heard about it. But there had been no sign of alteration – no tell-tale white fog, or unbalanced sounds, or too-bright colors. It could have been an actual memory, but both he and Lorraine had been so changed that he never could have picked out who they were originally – or even that a change had been made.

"On one count, yes," he answered David. "But I've never seen such skill in legilimency. Who does this anonymizing?"

David smiled, relaxing at last. "We have a few people," he said. "We keep their identities secret, though. I would hate to have one of them hired out from underneath us. Trade secrets, you know."

Remus nodded slowly. "Well. If it's all right with you, I'd like to take some time to think about this."

"Of course," David said. "Sleep on it. Come see me tomorrow and we'll talk."

-:-

Remus' thinking came down to one basic question: did he believe what David had told him? If the man could be trusted, then no one had access to the memories Remus had surrendered outside of the medical study he had originally thought he was participating in. That much was a relief; and yet it made Remus re-think what he was doing. It had been singularly disturbing to witness a scene from his own life that he couldn't really recall.

Although, a part of him knew that it had been exciting as well. That particular memory had ended badly, but the other he'd donated was just two men enjoying one another's company...

He was starting to see how someone could make a business out of renting such things.

In any case, Remus decided that if he didn't trust David, he wouldn't return no matter how badly he needed the money; at the same time, he had fairly good instincts for this sort of thing and he believed that David was telling the truth. And also, he did need the money.

-:-

David seemed relieved to see him the next afternoon. He reassured Remus again about the separation between memories donated for the research and those available for viewing, but Remus had already convinced himself that David was telling the truth. He just wanted to collect another few payments, and he could pay off the rent for this month, and possibly think about where his Wolfsbane potion was going to come from at the next full moon.

Thus reminded of his purposes, Remus was able to concentrate on another night he would just as soon forget...

It was the day after Dumbledore's funeral. Remus would always cherish the memory of the funeral itself, especially if he could convince himself he had been merely comforting Nymphadora in her grief rather than allowing her romantic feelings to run rampant. But the next day, she'd arrived at the flat he was staying in, and that was the day he'd found out just how much she expected of him.

He'd been exhausted, emotionally and physically drained, and rather unwilling to deal with her energy and exuberance, but he'd felt no choice but to invite her in.

The moment he had shut the door, she stretched onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. "Remus," she breathed, tilting her face up to his. "You've no idea how happy you make me."

Since it was so obviously expected, he kissed her, but pulled back even though it was clear she would have deepened the kiss. "Nymphadora," he said, and hesitated over what to say next. "It's been a difficult few days."

Tonks nodded, smiling coyly at him. "I know. I thought I could... take your mind off it. Help you relax." She slipped around behind him and began to massage his shoulders, which only served to increase his tension.

He turned, catching her hands and holding them gently. "Why don't we go somewhere... maybe tomorrow. We could talk."

She made a little face and moved closer to him, molding the curve of her body against his. It was not exactly unpleasant, but with the emotions in the room being what they were, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He had to put a stop to this relationship before it got out of hand.

"Talking isn't what I had in mind, Remus," she said, and kissed him again. His lips parted in surprise, and she took advantage of it to thrust her tongue into his mouth, shifting her hips at the same time.

He kissed her back, then, letting his hands roam her slim figure, spreading fingers wide in her short hair. He was only human – most of the time – and she was attractive, in her way, and imminently available. Some part of his brain continued to warn that this was a bad idea, but that voice was silent after Tonks slipped her hands around to his arse and cupped it, pulling him even closer.

There was a flurry of clothes being pulled away, a brief stumbling towards the bed, and the next thing Remus was really aware of was being on his bed, with Tonks straddling one of his legs, her wet pussy pressed up against his thigh. It felt decidedly odd, but what was much better was the soft, yielding firmness of her breasts rubbing against his hardening erection. It felt _incredible_ , and even better was when she was able to start rocking upwards and down along his body, leaning her head down at the end of each stroke to swipe her tongue across the head of his cock as it emerged from between her tits.

She rocked more forcefully, and his hands searched for something to clutch onto until they landed on the sheets on either side of him. In a surprisingly short time she clamped her legs tightly around his thigh and shuddered, her body jerking spasmodically in her passion. They had been almost entirely silent, and he couldn't help but wonder as he watched her come if there was even anything personal about the entire encounter.

The thought jerked him out of the moment entirely. He had no doubt she would have dutifully attended to his own pleasure, but he pulled her up and let her lay next to him instead, searching for words.

"Remus?" she asked, eyes still half-closed in satisfaction.

Tonks' naked body was pressed up against his, and somehow it only made Remus want to cover both of them up. She shifted against him again. "What's the matter, Remus?"

He did pull a blanket across the bed, then. His body gave a small shiver of frustration, but he was rapidly cooling down thanks to the realization he'd had that this sort of behavior was going to make dealing with Tonks that much more difficult, and the less of it the better off he would be. Also, the fact that he didn't exactly feel comfortable with her was a big clue as well.

 _As if you never got off with someone you weren't comfortable with._ That wasn't the point, the point was that he could make the right decision _now_...

"Nothing, Nymphadora." He petted her head in a lame attempt at comfort, and she immediately leaned up onto her elbow to look at him.

"Remus Lupin, when you use that tone of voice I know that there is most certainly something wrong. You can tell me anything, you know."

He sighed. There was still part of him that wanted very much to shove all that emotional blather to the side, and enjoy her physical company while he could. She was obviously willing... in fact, she'd already _had_ hers, and the way her breasts had slid around his prick had been more excitement than he'd seen in quite a long time.

But there was the fact that he felt like a stranger to himself when he kissed her; the fact that whenever she turned adoring eyes to him or started talking about the future or how happy she was, he got a tight knot in his chest as if to signal him that he was clearly on the wrong path. He could feel the knot clawing its way towards his throat right now, and if he didn't do something to fix the cause of it, he would have to put up with it for the rest of his life.

"Tell you anything?"

She nodded, eyes wide and solemn. Even completely naked and sated with afterglow, he couldn't help but think of how young she looked.

"Nymphadora... I'm not in love with you."

She nodded again. "I know, you've told me before. But Remus, I know you're a good man, and you wouldn't be here with me now if–"

"If you hadn't thrown yourself at me the moment you walked in the door." He winced. "That wasn't what I..."

" _Don't_ say it wasn't what you meant, Remus," Tonks responded, calmly enough though she seemed to have to get a grip on her tone of voice. "You don't need to sugar-coat the way you say things to me. I can handle it, I've told you that."

"Tonks. You keep saying that I wouldn't be with you if I didn't really love you, somewhere inside me, but... well, I've told you for a year now that we shouldn't be together. I've come up with everything I could think of to convince you I was telling the truth."

She was silent for a long moment. He wondered what he could say next, and then he noticed her hand trembling slightly where she was supporting herself on the bed. "Tonks, I..."

"You picked _now_ ," she whispered. Her face was completely void of feeling, which almost made Remus want to take it all back. She went on, "You pick _now_ to convince me? That you would bring it up in the middle of _this_ tells me more than you could know."

"Tonks," he began, but she was standing up, and collecting her things, with tears streaming down her face now, and there was absolutely nothing, nothing he could do to help her now.

-:-

The next time Remus arrived at the Fair Weather Fantasies offices, David had a surprise for him.

"I, of course, do not know the nature of the memories you've been donating for the research project," he began as Remus slid into his usual chair in David's office. "However, _someone_ does, of course, and I've been instructed to ask you if you would consider working for our other business endeavor."

He looked almost nervous. Remus blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"The private viewing rooms. We would like to explore the possibility of using some of your memories." He took a single piece of paper from a file and slid it across the desk. "This is our generalized price list, along with a few details about how they'll be used, et cetera."

Remus took a glance at it. The numbers were much, _much_ higher than they'd been for the research project. He raised his eyebrows and looked at David, who smiled slightly.

"We ask to have more influence over what sort of memories are leased to us for this project. We are looking for memories that clients will... enjoy, and often this means you would rather not forget about those moments, so the price naturally goes up."

Sexual encounters of several varieties were listed on the sheet, as well as other oddities that Remus wouldn't have thought of: vacations, seminars of famous lecturers, being present at an historic event, Quidditch World Cups, Muggle experiences... And the very last item on the list was "extremely unusual" with a price that read "varies by market."

"What do you say?" David prompted, when Remus had been staring at the large amounts of Galleons listed. If he gave up just _one_ of his good nights...

"All right."

David smiled more naturally. "This way, please."

-:-

It was a small but comfortable room, decorated in the same fashion as the private viewing room had been, but with no alcove and no Pensieve. There was a curtain over a doorway, but Remus couldn't guess what it led to. David gave him a jar (a pretty glass one instead of those specimen containers), reminded him of how the mechanics of collecting the memory worked, and left him to his own devices.

Now he just had to figure out which memory to use.

Something other people would pay money to see? It was unthinkable. But then again, he'd seen the way his other memory had been anonymized, and there was a good chance that whoever was doing _that_ could make anyone look like a porn star. All he was supplying was the plot, really. So he needed to recall an evening with a good story.

Letting his mind drift, he relaxed against the sofa and thought back...

He'd had a Muggle boyfriend, for a few months, though Nicholas would have been appalled if anyone had used that term for him. In between the nightmare that was 1981 and Remus' sudden return to Hogwarts in 1993, he'd spent a lot of time in the Muggle world, and it had seemed natural to find someone who he'd liked being with.

Nicholas had wild, dark hair that he kept long, and instead of Sirius' classic features (which haunted Remus' dreams), he had a rather square jaw, and a crooked nose, but the most amazing smile. Remus had been taken in, in spite of himself.

There was one night in particular, a chill autumn evening, when Nicholas suddenly declared he was tired of sitting indoors, and Remus had better get a scarf because they were going outside. The park was a dark expanse of green, lit only by the stars under a new moon, and Remus felt more calm than he'd felt in years.

"Bloody hell," Nicholas muttered as they walked along. "Whose idea was this? It's positively freezing tonight."

Remus smiled. "I believe it was yours," he said.

Instead of dignifying that with a reply, Nicholas pulled him off the path and under a tree, tucking his hands into Remus' trouser pockets. "Then you'll have do to something to warm me up, won't you?"

He kissed Remus then, the five o'clock shadow rasping against Remus' skin, and the gap between their bodies closed. Nicholas was the best kisser Remus had ever known, and he thought of what they must look like, snogging in the shadows under a tree in the middle of the park.

It _was_ freezing that night, but a little activity, they decided, was just the thing to warm them up.

The touch of Nicholas' lips on his skin made Remus shiver, even apart from the cold autumn evening. They'd been seeing each other for a few months at this point, and Remus still got the delicious fluttery feeling in his chest when they kissed. He knew better than to fall in love, but that didn't keep him from feeling almost lucky when Nicholas smiled at him.

Or mouthed a trail of kisses along his neck.

"Nicholas," Remus managed to say, "it's not even ten degrees out here."

"Mm, yeah?"

"Let's go back to your flat."

Nicholas looked up at him then, eyes flashing. "Don't want to." One of his hands went to the nape of Remus' neck, and Remus responded by capturing his mouth for another steamy kiss. Nicholas rocked against him, letting Remus feel the erection beginning to strain against his jeans. Glorious Muggle jeans. Remus wished the entire wizarding world would adopt them.

Nicholas scraped his teeth along Remus' bottom lip, making him groan out loud. If he could, he would just Apparate them both home and there would be almost no interruption and they could continue someplace warmer, with a comfortable bed. But Remus hadn't told Nicholas about magic yet. He meant to... he just wanted to get to know him better first.

He knew him well enough to know that Nicholas wanted to have his way here, tonight, in the park, and Remus was willing enough if only Nicholas would keep looking at him like that. So he let himself be dragged to the grass, the dry leaves crunching underneath them even with his cloak spread out on the ground. He let Nicholas undress, eying his lean frame appreciatively. He let Nicholas embrace him. He let his legs part and his body relax until the moment Nicholas was inside him, when everything tensed and clenched and he wanted nothing more than this, to be filled, to be taken, and the chill air on his skin meant nothing except a contrast to the fiery heat of Nicholas' body against him.

The moment before Nicholas came, Remus hit a peak of pleasure, thrusting his body into the force of Nicholas' stroke. The world was reduced to the space of their bodies, the hot breath on his shoulder as Nicholas tried not to cry out, and the utter satisfaction of being, if not happy, then very, very content.

-:-

Remus was smiling as he drifted back to his sofa in the private room David had shown him to. Nicholas had been a lot of fun for a few months there, even though Remus had never felt ready to tell him about the magical world. He remembered the day Nicholas left him, somber-faced as he gave Remus the news that he'd been offered a position on the continent, that he was taking it because there just wasn't enough to keep him here.

In retrospect, Remus had realized Nicholas had been begging him for more, for something he could depend on, instead of a lover who disappeared a few days every month with no reason given. But at the time, he'd been unable to give anything else. With a slight frown, he looked at the memory he'd just bottled, trying to recall exactly what had gone on in that scene, but it was impossible. The scene after, he remembered: the walk back to Nicholas' flat, both of them with mussed and slightly damp clothes, trying to hurry to get out of the wind, not talking.

He stood, watching the the swirls of grey mist the sides of the bottle, and wondered just how far it was to a room with a Pensieve, and whether he would be able to find an empty one, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

He opened it to reveal David, looking much more grave and worried than Remus had ever seen him.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," he said without preamble. "I've just been asked if you would come meet someone. It seems we have a special request."

-:-

They went down a flight of stairs, and then David knocked on a nondescript door, waited for a muffled "Enter," and held the door open for Remus. He didn't come in after him, which Remus noticed with a faint surprise, and then turned his attention to the young man sitting on a stool in what was quite obviously a fully stocked and impressively laid out potions laboratory, with counters lining the walls and a single long table taking up most of the center of the room.

When Remus saw who was making potions in this lab, he couldn't help asking aloud, "Draco Malfoy?"

"Just a minute, Professor," the former Slytherin said. He was adding a thick raspberry-colored liquid into a boiling cauldron. After a moment he stopped and stood, taking off his gloves and laying them carelessly on the countertop.

"Thank you for meeting with me," he said, not seeming surprised at all to find Remus still alive after being reported dead during the war. But then again, Remus realized, he'd probably seen Remus' memories.

"I admit," Remus said warily, "I didn't think I had much choice."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but otherwise his face didn't change. "I hope David hasn't been misrepresenting the nature of our business relationship," he said. "Please, won't you have a seat? Not as comfortable as the rooms upstairs, but they do the job." He gestured to the stools.

Remus took a seat. "I haven't been a professor for a decade, Draco. Call me Remus. If you'll allow me the question, what exactly _is_ the nature of our business relationship?"

"It's simple. You have become one of my suppliers, and I process your raw materials into finished goods for the consumption of my clients." Draco leaned against the nearest worktable. "Since tonight is your first commission for us, I'd like to review it with you so we can go over a few things."

A quick glance around the room showed Remus a Pensieve here as well, this one plain and unadorned, sitting on one end of the table in the center of the room. "What sort of things?"

Draco waved a hand. "There are ways of beginning and ending the memory that make our job easier when it comes to the processing. Also not everyone has a good feel for _when_ , exactly, to start and end the memory. I can make sure you know what we want."

Remus smiled. "I see. You're the director."

"The what?"

"A Muggle term for one of the people who create motion pictures, the one who says what the actors should do and where the cameras should be."

Draco looked at him. Remus gazed back levelly. The boy was older since the war, obviously, but he also looked much healthier than the last time Remus had seen him. His face had lost some of its gauntness, his eyes that haunted look that had been in all the newspapers.

"If you say so," Draco said at last. "Shall we?"

-:-

Entering a Pensieve with someone else was odd. Remus couldn't remember doing such a thing before, but Draco seemed to show no hesitation in taking Remus' arm and tipping them both headfirst into the swirling surface of the liquid in the Pensieve.

They arrived in Nicholas' flat, just as he was announcing to the memory-Remus that he was tired of sitting around inside on such a beautiful night.

"All right," memory-Remus said pleasantly. "What would you like to do instead?"

Draco let go of Remus' arm but didn't move any further away. "Yes, this is exactly what I mean," he said, watching the scene unfolding before him with interest. "I've no doubt David didn't tell you much about starting the sequence of action, probably because you came in on the research project, but there are a few things you can do."

Remus watched as the two men in the memory gathered jackets and scarves. There was a small pang in his chest when he saw the way Nicholas laughed and cajoled memory-Remus out of his habits, into the wild night air, but he listened to what Draco had to say.

"Obviously," Draco went on, as they followed the other two out of the door, "the part we're interested in takes place elsewhere. For our purposes, it's usually better to start and end the memory in one place. That way our patrons don't have to move around to keep up with what's going on."

Remus could see the logic in that. It was odd, walking through what he knew was a chilly London night, without feeling any of the cold himself.

It was dark when they reached the park, darker than Remus remembered.

"Excellent," Draco said, stopping Remus some ways back of where the two in the memory had left the path. "So many of our memories are brightly lit; I can't tell you how difficult it is to get an interesting mix of scenes. And it's not as though we can change the lighting." He peered into the shadows to watch as Nicholas kissed the memory-Remus, their bodies molding together underneath the trees.

Remus found himself a little discomfited by watching _himself_ while standing next to someone else watching, especially a former student. Especially knowing what was coming next.

"I meant to ask about that," he said, grasping onto Draco's last words. "The editing is amazing. I had no idea you were so good at Legilimency."

Draco gave him a sideways glance. "I'm not," he said. "But I'm learning. It's not very difficult to hide the true identity of people in the memory, of course, but to not leave any trace of the changes _is_ impressive."

The two in the memory were getting more passionate. Any other time, Remus would have been happy to watch, as Nicholas really was enthusiastic as a lover, and the way he were beginning to bare parts of his body as he and memory-Remus lay down on the leaf-covered grass was tantalizing.

It was also impossible to focus solely on his discussion with Draco, as the boy was studying the movement of the lovers intently, very clearly interested in the scene. Purely for aesthetic reasons, Remus was sure.

"If it wasn't you," Remus began, but Draco held up a hand.

"Hang on," he said. "I'm trying to watch. We'll talk more in a moment or two."

Remus was reasonably sure the lovers would be more than a moment or two, even if the details _were_ fuzzy in his head, but he obligingly turned his attention to the two under the trees and was quiet.

-:-

Remus was lying on his back on a cloak spread across the park's grassy carpet, his eyes closed in pleasure as Nicholas knelt between his legs, sliding his wet fingers into Remus in preparation.

"This is good," Draco said as he watched the two men together. "Do you have more like this?"

A wave of possessiveness swept over the real Remus. He would part with no more memories of Nicholas, good or bad. He cherished the intimate moments, such as they were witnessing now, and the difficult moments equally. He would never let go of Nicholas saying goodbye, no matter how it hurt to recall, any more than he would give up the memory of the day the met, in a Muggle record store, each looking for the last copy of John Coltrane.

 _More like this?_ , Draco had asked, as if it was a given that Remus would sell them if he had them. The possessiveness burnt hotter, until Remus had to catch hold of his anger and throttle it, had to clench his fists and deliberately relax them again. Even then, he was unable to keep it entirely from his voice.

"No," he said abruptly. "No more. Get me out of here."

Draco looked at him questioningly, then glanced toward the lovers.

"Oh god," Nicholas groaned at that point. He was answered by a low-throated growl, one Remus could remember him saying was a major turn-on.

Remus grabbed Draco's arm and hauled him away. He made it a few steps before Draco recovered from his surprise and pulled his arm out of Remus' grasp, and Remus let him. He was already regretting putting a hand on the younger man, who really hadn't done anything wrong. He was running a business, after all.

"Get me out of here," Remus repeated. Draco's gaze was wary, but he drew his wand and said a single spell. The next thing Remus knew, they were standing, shoulders touching, in front of the basin.

Remus drew a shuddering breath and took a step back, away from the Pensieve. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't think I can do this any more. He thought of paying off his landlord and a few other things, and said with great reluctance, "You can keep this one, at whatever the going rate was, if you want it."

Draco looked actually worried. "Let's talk this over," he started to say, but Remus interrupted.

"I'm tired of talking about it," he said. "I always knew there were some things I wouldn't do for money, but it wasn't until today that I realized there are things I won't sell, either. I'm sorry."

"I understand," Draco said. "If you like, we can set you up to withdraw your memories in a room with a Pensieve, so that you can view them again before they are edited. That way you won't have completely lost them."

Remus considered. That had been his first thought after taking this memory out, after all. But it wasn't the same, standing in front of himself and Nicholas, watching their lovemaking. He couldn't remember the way it _felt_. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought back to the first time he'd stayed over at Nicholas' flat, the sensation of waking up in bed with him, bodies twined together. If someone were to observe that scene, it would look like nothing more than two men in a bed, but Remus _remembered_ the way his heart had pounded when Nicholas began to stir, began to press lazily against his back.

He opened his eyes again to see Draco watching him with something like hunger on his face. "Perfect," Draco breathed. "That's it, whatever you were just thinking of. That's what we want."

"I'm sorry," Remus said for the third time. "You can't have it."

"Give me five minutes," Draco said earnestly. Remus sighed and nodded, running a hand through his hair as he slumped onto a stool. He could listen for a few minutes; it wouldn't change his conviction.

Draco took a pinch of powder from a jar and dusted it onto a cauldron fire. "It's me, he said. "Can you come down here, please?" Remus was surprised to hear it sound like a request, rather than a demand. He didn't catch the reply, but Draco seemed satisfied. The younger man took a few quick paces along the side of the table, then turned on his heel.

Remus felt badly for him, sorry that he couldn't give any more memories. He tried to keep Draco from fretting by distracting him. "Who are we waiting for?" he asked.

Draco looked at him sharply. "You asked about our Legilimencer," he said. "You must promise to keep his identity secret, however. I'm sure you understand."

"Trade secrets, I understand."

Draco gave a tight smile. "I meant because you, too, were presumed to be killed during the war."

The door to the lab opened, and on the other side of it, wearing black Muggle trousers and a plain grey shirt, stood Severus Snape. Rather than stepping fully into the room, he stood in the doorway and leaned one hand on the door frame, leveling his glare at Draco and ignoring Remus completely. "Well?"

"Sorry to bother you," Draco said breezily. "I just finished reviewing Professor Lupin's first submission for us–" Remus was interested to see Severus' nostrils flare at the use of the title– "and I would appreciate it if you could speak with him about a continuing business relationship." That said, Draco stood back against a counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Severus turned his gaze to Remus, but before he could speak, Remus felt he had to say something.

"You're... I thought you were dead." He sounded like a fool, he was sure, but that fact didn't bother him at all.

Severus gave a soft snort and glanced at Draco before turning his attention back to Remus. "As are you," he said. "I hope you don't mind if I skip the pleasantries, as I have something on the burner in the other room."

Remus got to his feet. "Then you needn't bother. I've already made up my mind, and there's nothing you can say to convince me to part with more of my past."

He walked past the spluttering Severus, back up the stairs, and out of the offices. With the coins jingling in his leather pouch, he felt like a free man for the first time in years.

-:-

That night he dreamed of Severus.

It started out with Draco, being the first person from his old life Remus had seen since the end of the war. In his dream, Draco was threatening to expose him to the Daily Prophe. He stood in David's office, leaning over the desk and demanding more, more of Remus' memories.

Remus struck him across the face, a sharp blow that spun Draco halfway around. When he turned back to look at Remus, his face utterly blank, there was blood welling at the corner of his mouth. He straightened up and glanced at the door. "Severus," Draco said, perfectly calm. "I think our friend needs a little... convincing."

Remus turned and saw him standing in the doorway, just as he had in the lab today, but his eyes were fixed on Remus.

"Does he, now." When Severus spoke, his voice was low, almost a purr, and Remus gave an involuntary shiver. There was an intensity about Severus' gaze that Remus found impossible to ignore. He tried to speak up, to say something final as he had done during the day, but his voice wouldn't work, and his feet were rooted in place.

Severus pushed himself away from the door frame and padded into the room, feet bare on the office carpet. He came within centimeters of Remus, a fraction of an inch taller so that Remus had to look up to watch the way Severus watched _him_. Shoulder-length black hair hung on either side of Severus' face, framing his pale features.

"Well?" Severus said, drawing the word out.

Remus licked his lips unconsciously.

Severus reached a hand up to brush his fingertips across Remus' cheekbone and down, tracing the line of his jaw. "I'm going to have what I want from you," he said softly. "I'd much rather have it willingly, but if I must I will... take it by force."

Remus couldn't speak, couldn't affect what was happening in any way. It was almost as if he were watching one of his own memories, unable to change what was going on, but he was looking directly into Severus' eyes, in the middle of the action.

"Cut!" Draco yelled just then, and then Remus was able to move, blink and look around at the lights and cameras all around them. Draco was walking up, a clipboard in hand, was saying something to Severus. "…not bad, of course, but you've got to give me more _passion._ Can you do that?"

Severus nodded seriously, and Draco turned to Remus.

"You're doing wonderfully," he said, eyeing Remus from head to toe. "You do 'stunned' rather well, actually. But I think we need a costume change. Costume!" He yelled this last at a nearby runner, who instantly wheeled over a rack filled with clothes. Draco gave the rack a glance and then waved it away. "No," he continued, "what we need here is the same clothes but... _less_. Severus, if you would?"

Remus found himself turned around, into Severus' arms, who proceeded to pull at his shirt, ripping it away from his body. Again, he was unable to respond – couldn't even form a coherent _thought_ , much less say anything – and then Draco said, "That's it, right there, action!"

Severus was touching his face again. Remus' eyes closed of their own accord as he savored the light touch of Severus' fingers, but he could still hear Severus say, "If I must... I will take it by force."

The husky tone of his voice shot straight through Remus' body, and even though he couldn't move there were parts of him that were responding. More passion, indeed. Just then Severus' mouth closed over Remus' in a kiss that was cautious, exploring, without being hesitant. Remus could move then, enough to reach his hands to Severus' shoulders, enough to kiss him back. He surprised himself by responding eagerly, his lips parting slightly in invitation, and when Severus shifted his position to kiss Remus more thoroughly, he felt his knees give way. He fell then: taking a step on a floor that suddenly wasn't there, he pitched headfirst into nothingness.

He awoke with a jolt and a moment of panic, heart beating wildly.

The dream started to fade from Remus' mind even as he fumbled for his clock, trying to see what time it was. Too bloody early, obviously. He had a vision of Draco snapping out orders, a clothing rack, Severus ripping his clothes off his body...

In a way, he regretted waking up when he did. That sudden falling sensation was never pleasant – it happened to Remus occasionally when he was drifting towards sleep – but more than that, he would have liked to continue the scene as it was unfolding. Severus, in his dream at least, had strong arms, and a lithe, lean body that Remus hadn't seen nearly enough of before he'd woken. And the kiss... Remus knew he'd never be able to get back to sleep thinking about kissing Severus Snape, of all people, so he stroked himself to hardness and then mechanically to climax, trying not to think about anything.

When he was done and cleaned up, he let himself collapse onto his pillows. He needed to get out more. He knew he hadn't been very social lately, but having a negative bank account balance tended to do that to you. Not to mention the fact that he'd severed ties with everyone from the wizarding world, and most of the people he'd ever trusted in his life were dead. For the past few years, he'd subsisted on cordial greetings with his neighbors, his landlord (at least when he wasn't behind in rent) and the customer service witch at the Daily Prophet who kept calling him to renew his subscription.

Not for the first time, he reconsidered his "presumed dead" status. At some point, he was sure, he would re-enter the world he'd grown up in, but right now there was nowhere he could go, no one to talk things over with, to get a good friend's perspective on his situation.

So the next day, he went to see Severus at the offices of Fair Weather Fantasies.

-:-

It took a bit of convincing to get in to see him, which Remus thought was rather odd. He hadn't expected to have trouble, but when he went in to speak with the receptionist, he hadn't wanted to use Severus' name because he wasn't sure how many people knew about the man's continuing survival. And he'd remembered that when David brought him downstairs to see Draco, no names had been mentioned then, either.

Finally, after meeting with David and speaking a few words to Draco via what seemed to be a miniature, localized Floo-network, Remus was told that the person he wanted to meet would be joining him in room four in a few moments. Room four was the viewing room Remus had seen before, with its tasteful appointments and decorated Pensieve.

He was staring into the bowl of clear liquid when there was a brief rap at the door, and then Severus entered. He was dressed in Muggle clothes similar to what Remus had seen the day before, and again Remus wondered exactly how the man had survived and how he lived in _his_ exile. The fact that they had once served together in the Order of the Phoenix, taught at Hogwarts together, gone to _school_ together gave Remus no insight into what kept Severus Snape going.

"What is it?" Severus said, a guarded expression on his face.

Remus was at a loss for a moment. How could he talk to Severus about anything if he had no idea what the man had been doing for the past few years?

"How do you do it?" he said at last.

Severus stood there, back against the door, uncomprehending. "Do what?"

Remus waved a hand vaguely, not sure what he was trying to get across. The absurdity of the moment hit him: if he didn't even know what he was here to ask for, how could he expect Severus to help him?

"The editing," he answered weakly instead. "Your Legilimency leaves no trace at all."

Severus looked at him for another long moment. Remus was beginning to wonder if he'd done the right thing in showing up, and then Severus flicked his tongue across his lips – was he _nervous_? - and asked, "Would you like to see how it's done?"

Remus didn't want to make Severus have to ask twice. "Of course," he said, rising to his feet. "Just show me wherever you usually do it."

Severus stepped away from the door he'd been leaning against and motioned towards the Pensieve. "Here, if you like." He pulled out a small jar from a pocket and his wand from somewhere – Remus had never been able to hide his own wand in his sleeve, not in Muggle clothing, but Severus made it look easy.

"You just use the Pensieve, then?"

Severus gave him a look and didn't reply. While he was fussing with the jar, Remus took the opportunity to study him more closely. He hadn't really seen Severus during the war itself, not with both of them so busy on various undercover missions. And of course, towards the end, Severus hadn't been able to attend any Order meetings in person.

He looked much healthier, at least, since the last time Remus had seen him. Perhaps being presumed dead did that for him, though it had done pretty much the opposite for Remus. There were a few lines around Severus' eyes that Remus didn't remember, but the shoulder-length lank hair and lean frame were exactly the same.

"If you're done staring," Severus said dryly, "we can begin."

Remus started guiltily and came to Severus' side. Remembering what Draco had done, he laid a hand on Severus' arm and gave a nod. Severus said nothing, but directed his attention to the swirling silver strands in the Pensieve.

A moment later, they were standing in a familiar sitting room, with Remus Lupin himself sitting on the sofa, looking haggard. There was a knock on the door, and the Lupin sitting on the sofa got up to answer it.

"Hold on," Remus said, taking a step away from Severus. "I didn't know we would be looking at one of _my_ memories."

Severus' mouth twitched, but he merely said, "This is the next in my queue. I've already adjusted the entry point, as you can see. It has to have the treatment sooner or later, and it may as well be now."

Remus felt as if he were being dared to stay. "All right," he said. He wondered if there was something he could say to preface what was going to happen, but decided to let the scene unfold by itself. Tonks was coming into the room now, sliding her arms about Lupin's neck, murmuring what was intended as sweet nothings into his ear.

Severus meanwhile was concentrating his wand toward the memory-Lupin. There was a slight blurring about his face, which the real Remus found disconcerting, but it wasn't enough to actually change the way he looked.

"I can still recognize me," he commented. That was probably the first time he'd ever said that particular sentence, but it seemed appropriate.

Severus relaxed his grip on the wand for a moment and glanced at him. "Of course," he said. "It will take me four or five times through to change you enough to not be recognized. Another one or two to ensure consistency in the new face, and then I can do _her_." He nodded toward Tonks, who was now moving around behind Lupin and beginning to massage his shoulders.

"God, I hated that," Remus muttered.

Memory-Lupin did too, as he immediately turned and caught Tonks' hands. Remus flinched when he saw how abrupt he'd been with her, how insensitive, but there wasn't anything for it now, of course.

They were kissing, then. Remus shot an uncomfortable look at Severus, but he seemed not to notice anything out of the ordinary as he continued his spellwork, lightly blurring Lupin's appearance. A thought struck Remus.

"You mean you'll have to watch this _ten times_?"

"At least," Severus replied without looking away. "Usually it's more like a dozen, with a final run through to make sure everything is perfect. Lately I've been able to let Draco do some of the checking, though."

"I should hope so," Remus said, as Tonks stripped off her shirt, revealing a lacy, bright red bra. She was rather well formed, he thought, watching the way his own memory-hands slid over her body. He thought of what was to come next and grimaced again. Lupin in the memory certainly wasn't acting as if he were about to break it off with her, not the way they were breathing heavily and sliding their bodies against one another. He tried returning to the conversation at hand. "How many Legilimencers do you have doing this?"

"Just one. Me."

Remus stared at him.

"Careful now," Severus said, "this is always the trickiest part."

Mutely, Remus followed Severus into the bedroom, his mind reeling. He was trying to come to terms with the fact that Severus Snape was the one seeing _all_ of the memories Remus had parted with – and not just one time through, but a _dozen times_ each.

Severus had followed the action, moving close behind Tonks and memory-Lupin as they made their way to the bed. His wand was still flicking back and forth, but after the kissing couple climbed onto the bed, and Tonks knelt over the memory-Lupin to begin rubbing herself on him, Severus looked around at Remus.

"All right," he said. "Transitions require the most concentration."

Remus nodded. He felt that some attempt at conversation was expected, but Severus was working, and the seeing himself with Tonks was rather off-putting. There was nothing even vaguely appealing about the way she slid her body along his, and while he could, aesthetically speaking, acknowledge that she was certainly fit, with well-muscled legs and a finely curved backside, it did absolutely nothing for his libido.

Then again, Remus thought, any sort of conversation would be better than watching this. "Severus," he began, then paused. He felt like he was forgetting something he meant to ask. It nagged at him, but he couldn't remember, so he went with the obvious. "How did you survive the war?"

"It's not a very interesting story," Severus answered, not looking away from the scene on the bed. "Voldemort left me to die, and I didn't."

"But why haven't you..." Remus trailed off.

"Why haven't _you_?"

"Point."

Severus' mouth twitched slightly. Remus had to guess he was amused. He chose to ignore it. "You know," he went on, "no one except you and Draco know that I'm alive."

"I could say the same thing."

Tonks began to make shuddering movements, jerking unevenly as she rocked against memory Lupin. Remus thought again how strange it was for the two of them to have been so silent... and then he began to remember that this whole scene ended badly. He couldn't remember the exact details, of course, but he knew that the intimate business was over as soon as Tonks had had her enjoyment out of him, and nothing was left except the break-up itself.

"You can probably end it here," he said to Severus.

Tonks was moving her head down on Lupin's body.

"It's just about to start getting good," Severus replied, concentrating as fully as ever.

Remus shook his head. "No more sex. The rest is just painful."

Severus rolled his eyes. "This isn't a scene for our clientele; this is a highly charged emotional scene for the purposes of magical medical research. They'll want as much of the memory as is usable, including what you call the 'painful' part."

"Remus?" Tonks asked, making the real Remus jump.

"Well, I'm not sure I want to watch it," he muttered. He took a few quick steps over to the wall and leaned against it, facing toward Severus and away from the bed. It allowed him a good view of the former Death Eater at work. When he concentrated, his brows furrowed slightly and his mouth tightened. If Remus hadn't known better, he would have thought Severus was angry.

"Why didn't you just tell her you were gay?"

Remus gave a small shrug. Honestly, he'd never even thought of telling her that. "I'm not sure she would have believed me if I had."

Severus didn't say anything else, but continued his work on the memory, which Remus was content to watch. He wasn't exactly sure why Severus had invited him along, unless it was for the same reason that Remus had accepted: curiosity, relief in having someone who knew you from before the war, and perhaps a little bit of loneliness.

Tonks' voice cut through his observation. "What's the matter, Remus?"

"Nothing, Nymphadora," he heard himself say. Severus' expression didn't vary from his intent concentration as the two in the memory played out their painful conversation.

Remus listened with half an ear. It was an odd sensation, to listen to yourself have a conversation you couldn't exactly remember but one that you knew you must have had, and when the words were spoken to instantly recognize them as if you had remembered all along.

"Nymphadora... I'm not in love with you," the memory Lupin said.

The line in between Severus' eyes relaxed slightly, unless Remus was imagining things. He asked a question without really thinking about what he was saying, only having a sense of wanting to draw Severus into conversation again.

"Is this the first time you've seen this particular memory?"

Severus glanced at him, then back to the couple on the bed. "Draco screened it for me."

Remus took that as a 'yes.' He followed Severus' gaze to the bed, where he saw himself, lying partially covered and looking pained, but more interesting were the smooth curves of Tonks' body where she lay on her side. He could see her back, the strong lines of her shoulders and arms as she propped herself up, and her rounded backside only partly covered by the bedsheet that memory-Lupin had pulled up over her. The sheet covered enough that she was not entirely bare, but it hinted at much more than it covered.

He looked back at Severus, and was surprised to find that _he_ was being watched. Severus looked away almost immediately, back to his wandwork, but Remus found he was no longer interested in what was going on in the scene they had been watching. He was struck by the incongruity of Severus Snape wearing Muggle clothes – clothes that appeared to be tailored for him, mind, and not of the poorer quality that Remus himself had become accustomed to wearing – and also by the intensity of Severus' gaze when it had been turned upon him.

Was it possible that there was more on the table here than just spending a little time with someone from before they'd each been presumed dead? Remus had never thought of Severus as... a possibility, not in that way, but he couldn't deny that when he looked at him now, thought of what it might be like to have those hands brushing against his skin - _easy, now, Remus, can't let your imagination get carried away without a single hint of returned interest._ In short, he couldn't deny that there _was_ a spark of interest from his side of things, and that plus the sight of Tonks, storming out of the bedroom, rejected and naked, brought to mind something Severus had said just moments before.

"Severus?" Remus said. "What made you think I was gay?"

The memory ended then, before Severus could respond, and they were standing in the viewing room, with the swirling silver-grey of the Pensieve reflecting the light onto their faces.

For a moment, all Severus did was look at him. Finally he said, "Well, aren't you?"

Remus gave a short, humorless laugh, thinking about the scene they had just watched. "If you can honestly tell me you think so after my relationship with Nymphadora, I don't know what else could possibly change your mind on the issue. I've always considered myself bisexual, if you care to know."

They were still standing intimately close, next to the glowing Pensieve on its stand in the small, comfortable viewing room. Remus didn't mind, but he was beginning to find himself distracted by the scent of Severus: an enticing mix of _clean_ and _musk_ , very appealing and very masculine. He could almost imagine himself stepping closer to Severus and getting a good strong whiff of him, but the thought of how Severus might react kept him from doing any such thing.

Remus only realized the conversation had stopped when Severus turned and took a few steps away. Maybe Severus was uncomfortable around people of certain sexual orientations? But then, he was the one who'd asked Remus to come with him, and that was when he'd just thought Remus was gay.

The whole situation was confusing, and that wasn't the only thing making Remus' head hurt. He'd missed lunch and according to his watch it was nearly six. He'd been hungry many times in his life, of course, but right now he had a little money in the bank and he intended to celebrate.

"Well," he began, and stopped when that word caused Severus to whirl towards him, looking angry.

"Well," Severus mimicked, almost viciously, but by his next words he'd moderated his tone to mere sarcasm. "I _do_ hope you've satisfied your curiosity about how the work on the memories is done. If there's nothing else, I've got a lot of work to do."

Remus could hardly claim to be an expert on the many moods of Severus Snape, but even he could tell that something was up. He let his gaze fall back to the Pensieve, as non-threatening as he could make himself, while he considered what to say.

Severus noticed the direction of his gaze. Remus didn't know what the other man thought he was thinking of, but it was obvious Severus wasn't happy about it. It was puzzling. Surely, if he was the sole anonymizer for Fair Weather Fantasies, he'd had the chance become accustomed to viewing other people's sexual encounters?

Before Severus could say anything else in his apparent snit, whatever its cause, Remus went ahead with his original thought. "I was going to say, Severus, that I know you must be busy, but surely you must eat sometime. I know a seafood restaurant not far from here that I've been meaning to try."

There was a silence. Remus looked up to find Severus watching him, eyes guarded. "And?"

Remus smiled at that. "And, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"

Another silence, but at least this time Remus had the enjoyment of watching Severus consider what he was going to say in response. Not that his face was very expressive, of course. Years as a double agent had trained him too well for that. Patiently, Remus waited.

"I'm not gay."

Slowly, Remus nodded. "That's all right. I think they also serve steak."

Severus blinked, and then he said, "I have work to do."

"Another time, then?"

"Go away, Lupin." There was less animosity in Severus' tone now than a few moments ago, Remus was sure. He considered pressing his luck and insisting on some kind of agreement for another day, but decided against it.

"All right," he said instead. "And Severus? Thank you for showing me what you did."

There was no reply, and Severus didn't meet his eyes, so Remus left.

-:-

It was one thing to have dreams about Severus Snape – after all, Remus could never claim to be able to control his subconscious mind and the scenarios it came up with while he slept – but it was quite a different thing to have waking fantasies about him.

He'd found something to eat at a market on the way home, and after dinner he'd found himself restlessly pacing his flat. Not that it was very big, but he felt like he was missing a room. As if there was someplace that if he could just find the door, it would be like the flat was complete again.

Later, as he lay in bed with that same restless feeling, he found himself returning to the events of the day, and Severus came to his mind like cool water. He really did feel sorry for him, having to watch that hideous scene between him and Tonks another ten times or so, but what was of more interest to him at the moment was their conversation afterwards.

And the way Severus had smelled, when they first came out of the Pensieve.

Remus had a fairly good nose for scents, but he was never able to recreate them later. He needed to smell Severus again.

He also needed to take care of his rapidly-forming erection, and the fact that he was getting hard while remembering how Severus Snape smelled might have bothered him once upon a time, but today he found he couldn't care at all.

There was a part of Remus' mind that warned against indulging in a fantasy about someone who so clearly stated his non-interest in a relationship with Remus earlier that day, but the rest of Remus' mind – not to mention his body – was not listening.

He slipped a hand inside the loose drawstring pants he wore for sleeping, taking a leisurely hold of his hardening cock. It had been so long since he'd had an actual person to fix on while he touched himself; the very idea of it was making him breathe more heavily. He squirmed slightly, wiggling his hips into a more comfortable position, alternating between a lighter grip and a rough squeeze just to get his body moving in the right direction.

The scene after he and Severus had come out of the Pensieve could have ended much differently. They had been in a private viewing room, after all, and Remus was beginning to appreciate why those rooms came equipped with an attached room, especially if the curtain in the doorway concealed a bedroom beyond. If Severus hadn't stepped away, Remus could have moved even closer to him, until he could feel his body heat.

Severus might have smiled, but more likely he'd have glared at him, even if he _was_ interested. He could clearly imagine Severus' eyes darkening with desire as he moved closer, and finally he allowed his hand to start moving more smoothly along his prick, letting his fingertips rub just so against his balls at the bottom of each stroke.

His imagination hadn't got much past Severus leaning in close to him when he lowered his other hand, down beneath his balls to brush against the outside of his entrance, and in a sudden reaction his body tightened, his fist clenching hard and beating furiously against his cock, until he was coming, coming in rushed spurts onto his stomach.

Good grief, he thought, minutes later when he was capable of coherent thought. If the thought of being _close_ to Severus got him so carried away, he'd probably die if the man ever did actually touch him.

-:-

Remus could have whistled the next day as he made the now-familiar trip to Fair Weather Fantasies, except of course that he didn't know how to whistle. He nodded and smiled to Fiona, the receptionist, who told him (much to his surprise) that he could go on in to room four – the same room he'd met Severus in on the previous day.

Had it really only been yesterday that he'd showed up and talked his way into a meeting with Severus? Everyone had been so close-mouthed about the man's existence, but today he was waved in as if he were expected. Well, perhaps Severus didn't mind him coming by so much. The thought was a pleasant one.

He sat down on the small sofa to wait, but in a moment he was up again, not pacing exactly, but moving about the room. He hadn't really asked Severus the question he'd meant to yesterday, to find out how he'd lived so long as presumed dead, and if he ever wanted to make his presence known to the world.

Severus arrived after some time, and Remus felt an odd conflict of emotions upon seeing him: part apprehension, part uncertainty, part excitement, and none of it at all comfortable. So, before Severus could say anything to set a negative tone for their encounter, he blurted out, "Come to dinner with me."

"It's half nine in the morning, Lupin."

Remus waved a hand in an abrupt gesture. He wished Severus would sit on the sofa so that he could sit on the sofa next to him, but that didn't seem likely to happen. "I meant tonight."

He wasn't sure what he expected, perhaps an angry retort or another attempt at sidestepping the question, so he was rather surprised when Severus folded his arms calmly and said, "No thank you."

"What... why not?" Remus floundered.

Severus shrugged, a move that was simultaneously eloquent and efficient. "I don't want to."

 _All right, old man,_ the reasonable part of Remus' mind said. _You've got your answer, now get out of here and save some dignity while you can._ But he found he couldn't just stand up and walk out of here.

"Look, Severus, if you think I'm trying to hit on you--" _I am, oh God, that's exactly what I'm doing_ \-- "I mean, if you're afraid I'm, I don't know, _after_ something--" _your naked body pressed against mine, passionate kisses in the shower after glorious lovemaking_ \-- "What I'm trying to say is that I'm just interested in talking to you some more, Severus."

"I thought we were talking now."

Remus passed a hand over his eyes. He needed to gain a little more control over his own thoughts. "I'll stop asking, if you like, Severus. Only, you'll have to answer me one more time: please come to dinner with me. It's been so long since I've had a proper conversation with someone I knew."

A cloud seemed to pass over Severus' face. "You think you know me?"

"On the contrary, Severus, I was rather hoping to _get_ to know you better..."

"I will tell you something now, Lupin, and I expect you to believe it. I. Am. Not. Gay." Severus held up a hand to forestall any protest Remus may have started to make. "I don't care what you claim to be 'interested' in; I have seen enough of your history to know that I need to make this perfectly clear."

What was he talking about? Remus licked dry lips and started to frame a question, but Severus was already continuing.

"I saw you in the park with that Muggle. I saw you go home with one too, but you were gagging for Black the whole night. 'Bisexual,' you said. Ha! I saw you pushing the girls away, I know what you're really after."

"Severus, it's not like that."

"You're wrong," Severus hissed. "Tell the truth: you've never shagged a girl in your life, have you?"

"Well, I--"

"Did you?!" Severus' face was hard now, his tone passed from angry into something more, something that Remus couldn't understand. But he recognized it, and held his tongue to let Severus say whatever he needed to say.

"I thought not. Well _I have_ , and I can say 'I'm not gay' and I can know that it's true."

Remus waited, schooling his features to project calm. If he'd had any instincts for calming wild beasts, this would have been a good time to employ them, but somehow he'd always been on the other end of that scenario. And yet Severus reacted as if he had not only contradicted him, but laughed aloud in his face.

Severus' face went white in his fury, and he snatched his wand from its hiding place. "I can prove it! Here!"

Before Remus could stop him, there was a long, white and silver glowing cord coming out of Severus' head onto the tip of his wand, which he moved directly to the Pensieve.

"Severus, I don't need to see--"

A hand clamped on his arm and dragged him forward. Remus allowed it rather than getting into an actual fight with Severus, which would hardly help his case, and in the space of a moment he was standing in Severus' memory.

To his great surprise, he knew exactly where he was: the Gryffindor common room. It looked just as it had when he was in school. A movement from the corner of his eye made him turn his head, in time to see the portrait swinging open and a black-robed student creeping in.

"Severus!" a voice from behind Remus whispered, and he turned to find himself looking at Severus – the real Severus, the one in Muggle clothing again who had come with him to relive this memory – staring at a very young Lily Evans, waiting in the shadows of the common room. It _was_ when he had been in school, he thought dazedly.

The student that had just entered, young Severus, stopped when he heard Lily call, and then silently shut the painting behind him and moved across the room to join her. The two began a whispered conversation.

Remus couldn't look away, though it was impossible to see anything in the shadows. "How old are you? Were you?"

"Fifteen," Severus replied grimly.

There was a wet sound Remus took to be a kiss – though the thought of teenage Severus Snape and Lily Evans snogging was not healthy for his appetite – and then a rustle of clothing, and what sounded like murmured protests.

"Relax," he heard the young Severus whisper. "They won't be back for hours."

"I think I may be ill," Remus muttered. Severus' hand was still fixed on his arm, preventing him from pulling away. The contact and the sheer proximity of Severus next to him was not quite as satisfying as he might have fantasized about, thanks to the man's unchanging stare into the darkness.

"I told you," Severus said quietly. "I have proof."

This was getting out of hand. "Severus, just because you snuck into Gryffindor and felt up Lily doesn't mean anything. Good Lord, man, you saw me do more than that with Tonks."

A smug look was slowly beginning to form on Severus' face. "Not just that. I saw how that ended, Lupin. Unlike you, I am not a virgin."

Remus hooted at that. "If you think I'm--"

"Quiet!" Severus hissed. There was more commotion coming from the corner then, and Remus heard Lily sigh. Then a table scraped against the floor as if it had been jarred, and there was a muttered curse.

"Come here," Lily said. "If you're sure they're not coming back, then we've got the whole place to ourselves."

The two teenagers stepped out into the light, Lily leading Severus by the hand towards a long low chaise in front of the fire. She was kicking her knickers off from underneath her skirt as she went, while young Severus looked around nervously and held his trousers up to keep them from falling off.

"I've seen enough," Remus said.

"No, I want you to watch," Severus said, not taking his eyes off of Lily.

Remus briefly considered forcing Severus to let go of his arm, but rejected the plan as being overly confrontational. Instead, he put his hand on top of Severus', noting with interest the faded scars along the back of it, the hand's slender strength and ink-stained fingers.

Severus gave him a glance, but Lily made a sound and turned both of their attention back to the scene in front of them.

"Oh, Sev," she breathed, leaning against the back of the chaise. "So ready for this." She pulled the teenage Severus on top of her, and they fumbled awkwardly with clothing for a moment, hitching her skirt up to her hips, until Remus had to look away again. He'd never in his wildest dreams imagined Severus and _Lily_... but then, his wildest dreams had never involved Severus at all. At least not until a couple of days ago.

"Look," Remus started, and hesitated. He need to choose his words carefully. "If you think having sex with a girl makes you not gay, that's fine. Whatever you want, Severus."

"God," Lily moaned in the background. "Go on, go on..."

"But that doesn't mean you can't also be attracted to men."

Severus glared at him.

"It's true, Severus. If you _really_ wanted to convince me you weren't gay, all you would have to do is..." Remus broke off when he realized what he had been about to say. The idea was a sudden bit of excitement in what had otherwise been a very unsatisfactory encounter, but Severus would never go for it.

"What, Lupin?"

"Well, you'd have to force yourself to kiss me. And perhaps other things," Remus hurried on when Severus' scowl became even more furious, "and if you could go through the motions and be completely unaffected, then we would both know, wouldn't we?" He couldn't help himself; his gaze dropped to Severus' thin lips, his imagination caught by the idea of them pressed against his – for real, now, and not in a dream.

Severus dropped his arm like it was burning. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Remus shrugged. "It sounds crazy to me too, to be honest, but you seemed so set on convincing me. I just thought you might like to know this wasn't doing the job."

He waved a hand at the Gryffindor common room in front of them, where teenage Severus was moving faster now on top of Lily. Her hands were visible, clutching the shirt that still covered him, her hair spread out behind on the chair. The boy's face was screwed up into a grimace of utter concentration, which Remus found decidedly unerotic, until he wondered what the real Severus looked like in such a moment, especially if it were Remus underneath him.

"Fine," Severus snarled.

"What?" Remus turned to face Severus, who was standing with his fists clenched at his sides.

"You want to, you can't deny it now. And if it will show you that I—I'm not..."

Lily cried out then, but Remus didn't look around. He stepped towards Severus until he was within arm's reach, and then gently reached up and placed his hands on Severus' shoulders.

Severus was breathing rapidly, but Remus thought that probably had more to do with the way he was holding himself completely still, as if the entire thing was an ordeal for him, and in trying to keep himself from pulling away. The thought gave Remus a momentary pause. Was this really the way he wanted to kiss Severus for the first time?

 _If there is no first kiss, there is no second kiss, or third..._ And he did want there to be another kiss. He would make the best of it.

Resolutely, he moved even closer to Severus, closing his eyes and letting that incredible scent wash over him. Again his nose couldn't put a name to the mixture, something clean over a delicate spiciness, something unmistakably Severus and impossible to define.

"What are you doing?" He sounded suspicious.

"Hush." Remus gave Severus a small smile. That seemed to placate him; at the very least, he closed his eyes, for which Remus was grateful. He took one more moment to breathe in and savor the nearness of this difficult man, before leaning forward and bringing his lips against Severus'.

His stomach flipped over at the moment their lips met, and he deliberately drew it out by pressing forward slowly, carefully, everything measured and gentle. His hands ached with the effort of resting so lightly on Severus' shoulders when what he wanted to do was yank their bodies together. When a few heartbeats had gone by and Severus hadn't pushed him away yet, Remus decided he may as well make it a _good_ one, and opened his mouth slightly, moving the kiss to a new level of intimacy.

Then Severus moved against him, and Remus was lost.

He could feel the movement in Severus' lips, first, parting in a hesitant offer, and then his hands came up to touch Remus' hips, resting lightly without the demanding, the insistence that Remus wished he could show. It was all he could do to restrict the movement of his hands to a tightening, and slide them around behind Severus to stroke, caress and pat as best he could without clutching.

They were kissing in earnest, then. When their tongues met Remus felt a sudden vibration of desire ricochet through his body. The thought that Severus could want him as much as he wanted Severus overwhelmed him.

So overwhelmed, in fact, that when Severus pulled away, Remus was stunned. In that first critical moment, when Severus looked at him with shock, Remus could have perhaps said something, saved the moment somehow. But he had been too sure that Severus knew exactly what he was doing, too sure that his desire was exactly reciprocated, and he hadn't been able to say anything.

And Severus had fled without another word.

-:-

Some time later... _Much_ later, he was lying on the floor in the cramped sitting room – though the term "room" was perhaps on the charitable side – when an owl came at the window for him. It wasn't morning, so he didn't think it was the Daily Prophet or the usual morning mail, and that realization was the only thing that gave him the strength to stand and let the poor thing in.

It dropped an envelope, thick and heavy parchment, into his hands before turning to fly out the window again. The return address was "Fair Weather Fantasies Inc," but Remus was sure that the handwriting was not Severus'.

Remus was sure that the handwriting was not Severus', both because he was fairly certain he would recognize Severus' handwriting, for one thing, but more importantly because he couldn't imagine Severus writing to him. Not on the same day that Remus had humiliated him – for surely that's how Severus would think of the kiss they'd shared that morning.

He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have even brought it up, but Severus kept insisting that he wasn't gay, to the point that Remus had felt sure he either _was_ interested in Remus, and repressing it; or else there would be no harm in finagling a kiss out of him. But of course, it had backfired spectacularly.

Numbly curious, he opened the parchment and pulled out the note it contained.

It was from Draco. He found he had to back up and start reading again from the beginning more than once. The upshot of it seemed to be that Draco wanted to talk to him.

The kitchen clock told him it was close to five; the streets would be busy and he didn't feel like trying to avoid being seen Apparating into London. He struggled for a few moments to convince himself that he was hungry, that he needed to eat something, and then gave up trying to justify why he didn't want to leave the house, and just headed to his bed.

He lay down on the bed with his clothes on, trying not to think, waiting for sleep to carry him out of himself for at least a little while.

-:-

The room had gradually slipped into darkness. Remus thought he might be similarly slipping into sleep, but he couldn't be sure. He could see things happening, but he was not a part of them, could not affect them – not so much like watching a memory in a Pensieve, but more like watching a Muggle television program. The physical separation made it impossible to forget you were watching something on a box.

Pensieves, on the other hand, allowed you to surround yourself with the scenery.

He was surrounded now, by the lush grounds of Hogwarts in the springtime. There was a grassy set of hills out in the front, towards the lake, where they used to sit. He could see it, all around as if he were really there, but he knew it was just a memory – or a dream – what was the difference? And if he wanted to he could switch it back to watching the students on the box, instead of being in the image.

Now he was in the scene; now he was watching it on a screen. Rather a neat trick, actually.

The students he could see were very young. Too young to be attending Hogwarts, he thought, or perhaps he just remembered thinking that on his first day as a Professor.

He could see inside the Great Hall, now, first as a box – flip – and now from inside the scene, standing directly in front of the podium where Albus Dumbledore was introducing him. He watched himself stand and smile – flip – and he was outside the box, watching himself on TV. It seemed more believable that way.

Severus was there, of course, looking irritated beyond belief, but still going through the motions of courtesy. Remus flipped again and was inside Hogwarts Castle, inside his rooms, watching himself undress for bed. There was a knock on the door, and he flipped back out to watch on television as partially-undressed-him went to the door and opened it.

It was Severus. He came straight in without asking, and the Remus on television immediately went into his arms. They were kissing, and Remus-watching wished he could be inside, not inside to watch as you do with a Pensieve memory, but _inside_ himself, experiencing that kiss, experiencing the way Severus finished undressing him and pushed him toward the bedroom. An aggressive Severus, taking what he wanted, yes, and Remus would let him.

He was awake, he knew he was awake, he could feel himself pressing his erection against the bed, chafing painfully against the clothing he hadn't bothered to take off, but he could still see what was going on in the rooms of Hogwarts. He watched as Severus forced the television-Remus onto the bed, onto his hands and knees, watched as Severus slid his fingers down to clutch at Remus' hips. Watched as Severus entered him, not slowly but without hesitation, as can only happen in dreams. Severus took him, hot and demanding, and he only wished he could feel Severus' cock inside him instead of watching. Instead of having only his own hand, wrapped around his cock in a doomed attempt to satisfy.

Remus woke at four in the morning, feeling gritty and ... damp. He had very vivid recollections of his dream, but he could still only see what was happening – he hadn't experienced sex with Severus, any more than he was experiencing his memories when he looked at them in a Pensieve.

On the other hand, he had most definitely experienced that kiss the previous day. Remus leaned back against the headboard after he'd cleaned up, not quite willing to try to get back to sleep. He closed his eyes and imagined it again, indulging himself. The smell of Severus, close and warm and _answering_ his kiss with a passion of his own...

And then he'd pushed Remus into the bedroom and fucked him senseless on the bed.

 _No_. That wasn't what had happened – that was his dream, infiltrating his true memory. Remus frowned.

Something made him reach for his wand and draw out the bits of dream that were still floating around in his mind. It was easy; they were somehow less substantial than the memories he'd become accustomed to drawing out. While gobbets of silvery threaded light hung off the tip of his wand, he looked around for something to put them in. There was nothing at hand except for his water glass, so he drained it in two long swallows and put the airy silver things in there.

He returned to sleep, and when he woke he didn't remember any more dreams.

-:-

Another owl two days later persuaded Remus to return to the scene of the crime, as it were. It wasn't that Draco made any sort of special appeal to his sensibilities, or any compelling arguments to appeal to his pragmatic side. No, just the fact that Draco had sent him two owls in three days was enough to convince Remus that something was going on. What he really wanted to find out was the reason behind Draco's invitation.

He found himself considering what he was going to wear, but of course on that issue his options were limited. Still, he took care to shave, to at least make sure he was as presentable as he could be.

He Apparated to a safe spot a few blocks from the Fair Weather offices. It was a warm day, the middle of May, and he had been spending far too much time indoors recently. The new moon had passed not long ago, sometime during the days he was visiting the company. It wasn't like him not to notice, but then again he had been rather distracted in the past weeks. That meant he would have to start thinking about preparations for the upcoming full moon.

One thing at a time.

Rosalyn met him at the door, holding it open for him and welcoming him inside with a smile. "Welcome back," she said.

"Thank you." Remus was nonplussed, and became even more so when she showed him directly to Draco's office, two floors up and with a nice view of the river. Remus hadn't even realized that they were _near_ the river, but there it was.

Draco was waiting for him. "Professor," he said, rising to shake Remus' hand. "Thank you for coming."

"Something to drink?" Draco motioned toward the far wall to a well-stocked wet bar.

"No, thank you," Remus answered. "Maybe you can just tell me what this is about?"

"Of course. I will try to he succinct." He gave Remus a small, wry smile. "You see, Mr. Lupin, we have many more customers than we do suppliers. Our business requires a great deal of variety in stock on hand, as I'm sure you can appreciate."

Remus nodded. Was that all this was about?

"Most people don't want to give up too many of their memories," Draco continued. "But typically, someone who has taken the trouble to learn the technique will find ten to twelve memories to part with before they are ready to move on. I would like to ask you to reconsider."

"I don't think - "

"Please," Draco said earnestly. "I'm not trying to insult you by repeating our discussion from the other day. I have a few new points to bring up, if you're willing to listen." He waited, and Remus did give his words some thought.

"All right," he said at last. "I'll listen, but I'll take you up on that drink."

"Certainly," Draco said as he got to his feet. "You already know what we can offer in the way of financial compensation." He took out two old-fashioned glasses and a crystal decanter. "But what you may not realize is the uniqueness you offer. We've had several willing to give us all sorts of everyday experiences, but... and I hope you'll forgive my frankness, but we've never had a werewolf before."

Remus accepted the glass of amber liquid Draco held out to him. That was certainly not an angle he'd considered. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so he took a sip of his drink to stall. Heavy, well-aged brandywine. "I don't believe I could give you any memories of being a werewolf, Draco."

The younger man's face tightened in disappointment, and Remus went on quickly, "Not because I am not willing, but because when I turn, I don't retain enough of myself to recall what I have done."

"But surely... Somewhere in your subconscious..."

"Awareness is required. Just as Harry could not use a a Pensieve to show us all what happened the night his parents were killed..." Speaking Harry's name brought up a flood of feelings for Remus, longing for the closest thing to family he had left, and more than a little bit of guilt.

Draco must have read something in his face, for he stood and went to the window, giving Remus a moment to get control of himself. "I understand," Draco said at last. "But allow me to say one more thing. Severus is invested heavily in this company, and for his sake, I would do what I could to see it succeed."

Remus looked around, taking in the expensive furnishings. "You do seem to have done well so far."

"We had good starting capital." Draco spoke without turning around, and to Remus' ear he sounded tired. "To be honest, I'm sure the only reason we're still here is that we have literally no competition. No one else can do what Severus has done for us."

They were both quiet for a time, Draco looking out the window with his arms crossed, Remus finishing off his drink. Finally he thought of a question he needed an answer to.

"Why were you the one owling me? What did he tell you about what happened?"

Draco turned to face him, his lips slightly pursed. "Nothing," he said. "I only know he met with you, came out in a fit of pique and was hardly good for anything the rest of the day."

Remus shook his head. "And no one else can do what he does? To process the memories?"

"I'm learning," Draco said stiffly. "It is not a simple feat."

"No, of course not." Draco fidgeted with his glass and finally set it down next to the sink. "One of the difficulties in learning is finding someone to check my work. Severus is so busy with his own processing..."

"What about the rest of your staff?"

"There's really just David and Rosalyn," Draco said. "And I've been hesitant to show them my latest since it's one of my own memories. They're good people, but..."

"I understand."

"Perhaps you'd be willing to take a look? If I've done my job, you won't even be able to tell who it is." Draco's tone was casual, almost diffident, but Remus could see this was an important question.

"I'd be happy to help," he said. "You say it's one of your own?"

-:-

Draco left him in the viewing room with the vial of memory. Remus took a deep breath and tipped it into the Pensieve, then lowered his head to the shimmering surface to immerse himself in the vision.

He saw Draco immediately, somewhat younger than he was now, but clearly past his Hogwarts days. He was pacing across the short span of open room, in what was clearly some kind of inn – it wasn't the Three Broomsticks, and Remus hadn't traveled enough to recognize this particular room.

A knock on the door; Draco instantly spun to answer it. He hustled whoever it was into the room and shut the door immediately after, bolting it and casting two different charms on it to ward off unexpected interruptions.

The other person was well cloaked, but his or her arms lifted, hands going to the throat to touch whatever was keeping it in place. In an instant, the cloak slid heavily to the floor, pooling around high, black, stiletto heels.

Remus was positioned behind the figure, who had turned when dragged into the room by Draco,and it gave him an excellent view of the newcomer: his eyes traced upwards from the heels, along classic fish-net stockings that ended mid-thigh, connected by garters to silk panties on a rounded, pert bottom.

Remus had barely enough time to register what the newcomer was wearing – silk lingerie, tastefully trimmed with lace and ribbons – before Draco began to speak. That was when Remus realized that Draco looked exactly like Draco.

"I've got everything ready," Draco was saying.

"Good," the newcomer said, and at the same time that the words were spoken, there was an odd modulation in the air, clearly evidence of tampering with the memory. Remus hadn't thought about it, but he supposed there was more to be edited away than just the visuals.

The visuals in this case were impressive. The shape of the figure's body, rounded hips and narrow waist that flared outward again, showed Remus that it was a woman, even though he hadn't seen the front of her yet. There was something odd in her stance, though, as she listened to whatever Draco was telling her – an expression of defiance in the tilt of her hips, at once self-assured and strangely vulnerable.

Draco took the girl by one gloved hand and led her to the bed, and when she turned to walk past Remus, he at last got a look at her face. There was a vague sense of familiarity there, as if she were a blend of several people Remus knew. Still, he couldn't put a name to the face, and there was no light leaking from around her, or any grey fog showing up in the scene, so Remus supposed Draco was better at this processing than he thought he was.

"Here," Draco said, and showed the girl a box that was sitting on the bedside table. He then slipped off his shoes and got onto the bed, leaning against the headboard and looking for all the world as if her were about to start a business meeting, rather than... whatever was going on here.

The girl looked into the box. "Just any of these, yeah?" Again there was a slight buzzing in the air, obscuring her voice and ringing in Remus' ear. He moved around to the opposite side of the bed so he could see her face again, reminded as he was of what he was supposed to be doing here.

Her face looked all right, but it didn't look quite the same as it had a moment or two ago. Remus kept his eyes on her face while she pulled an object out of the box and began doing something with it – yes, there it was. A slight ripple ran across her face, and it changed slightly in the aftermath, the eyes slightly more set apart than they had been, and a handful of other small changes. It was still too close to be mistaken for a different person, but there was no denying the fact that she didn't quite look the same.

"Mmm, yeah," she said then, her face slipping into what was clearly supposed to be a sultry, enticing look. Remus glanced away; the bedroom eyes she was putting on were not for him, and even though she couldn't see him or interact with him in any way, it was still slightly embarrassing. His gaze fell on Draco, who was watching with narrowed eyes, and not at all the sort of interest you would expect in a john who had such a show going on in front of him.

A thought struck him – the voice coming from the girl had been the most noticeable defect in Draco's editing, and surely most of the time it was enough to just change a person's appearance, not their voice as well? Unless... what if the person in the original memory had been a man? It would certainly explain why Draco didn't seem to be affected by her charms.

Abruptly intrigued, Remus turned a critical eye to every inch of the "girl's" body. There was no mistaking that it certainly _looked_ like a female body – she had full breasts, showed to advantage in the push-up bra, and smooth narrow shoulders with delicate arms. She stood in the heels and stockings as if born to them, which surely no man could do.

Besides... she had slid part of the toy between her legs, pushing aside her panties, and there was no trace there of anything else. Surely not even Severus could have edited something like that out of the picture.

The thought of Severus melded somehow with his conjecture that this was perhaps not originally a woman.

Remus could not avoid the image of Severus wearing high, shiny black shoes, his calves and legs heightened and tightened by the heels, covered in that same fine fishnet that he was looking at on the girl. And garters hooking the stockings to something silky, something that covered Severus' arse but not quite, giving him enough to tease and turn him on.

He should not be thinking such things.

Just as Remus was shaking his head to get the image of Severus in lingerie out of his head, Draco shifted forward on the bed and said, "All right, that's fine, show me another one."

The girl sighed a little and pulled the toy away. Remus was surprised to see it had two cables attached to its main body, each with a hard plastic shape at the end – when had she had time to slip those things into place?

With a tug, she put her scant coverings back to rights and went back to the box, this time to pull out a pair of handcuffs with fake leopard fur around the edges. "Would you like to see me tied up?"

"No," Draco said, "try one of the vibrators... the pink one, with the stimulator in front. Let me see what you can do with that."

Remus blinked, and his jaw almost dropped open when, as the girl looked into the box again, posing all the way, Draco's reaction was to pick up a notepad from the bedside table and start taking notes.

Finally, he got it: this wasn't an encounter between lovers, nor a prostitute turning a trick – this was an audition.

-:-

"Pretty impressive," Remus said as he put the vial onto Draco's desk. "The editing, I mean, at least with the... person you were with. Hardly any sign of tampering, though the face did seem to vary a bit as the scene progressed."

Draco picked up the glass vial and rolled it on his palm. "And the voice?"

Remus made a so-so gesture with his hand. "Definitely some distortion coming through. I had to wonder, though..."

"Yes?"

"Was that because... because you had to drastically alter the voice? I mean, I would have thought that most of the time, there wouldn't be much change necessary..."

Draco shrugged. He pulled open a drawer and put the memory away before answering. "You're right, most of the time there's not much change. With this one, well, I suppose you could say I was practicing."

Remus nodded. He knew better than to ask about the true identity of the person in Draco's memory, no matter how curious he was. He thought of something else he was curious about, instead. "What about you?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't move a muscle. It was an expression Remus was sure he'd seen on Severus, and he hid an inward smile to think of the potions master influencing his former student.

"I mean, whoever-it-was looked like the girl, but you looked exactly like you. If you were attempting to process your own face as well, I'm sorry to say it was a pretty poor job."

"Oh..." Draco gave a brief smile. "That. It's impossible to change one's own appearance in a memory. At least, not with any hope at all of it not being recognized _as_ a change. Not even Severus can do that."

Remus leaned back in his chair. "Does that mean... all of the memories in your system that you let people borrow..." He felt he was having trouble getting the words out. "None of them are Severus'?"

"No, of course not. He can't change his own face, and you've seen the result of my limited ability." Draco eyed Remus speculatively. "Why?"

"Oh, I just..." Remus waved a hand. "It was just the logical consequence. It doesn't matter one way or another."

"As I mentioned before, we do have trouble in finding sources of memories. There are a good number of mine in there, but none of Severus'." He turned slightly in his chair, eyes unfocused. "The question of supply is our biggest problem."

"It's really too bad you can't manufacture them, somehow." Remus paused. "Er, have you considered manufacturing them somehow?"

Draco frowned, his eyes still fixed on the far wall. "I thought about it. Severus says it can't be done. Too much of material would have to be created, the _stuff_ that holds the memories, eternal something-or-other..."

"Ethereal phlogiston. You can't simply create it from nothing," a resonant voice said from the doorway.

Remus rose to his feet, turned to face Severus, who was leaning against the open door frame with his arms firmly crossed, a scowl fixed equally firmly on his face.

"Of course," Severus went on after a moment's silence, "there are more difficulties than the manufacture of the phlogiston. You would have to be shaping the picture toward some particular image, instead of away from an image the way we do now."

"In other words," Remus said, "someone would have to know what they wanted it to look like."

"Yes."

"A director." He glanced at Draco, but he was thinking of what _he_ would want a customized "memory" to show him: Severus, standing over him, gloriously nude – perhaps stroking himself while he looked down at Remus, hot and panting for him on the bed – would his hands be tied? _Yes._ Strapped into place, unable to resist as Severus knelt between his legs, moved his cock into position... and Severus would be looking pleased with himself, with what he was about to do... Remus shook himself back to the present.

Draco was frowning. "There's that word again. To be honest, I don't think this whole process is much like a Muggle film."

"Perhaps," Remus suggested, trying to catch the thread of conversation again, "that's because you didn't grow up watching Muggle films."

"I have seen them," Severus said slowly. "The analogy is not far off, although the critical difference is that a Muggle film merely captures something that is already happening, not creates it from nothing."

"All right, then. Where _do_ you get this phlogiston from, if you can't create it out of thin air? What could be used instead of memories, since you're having trouble getting enough of them as it is?"

Severus frowned thoughtfully, tapping the fingers of one hand against his upper arm. Remus tried not to be distracted by the motion, by the tendons moving in Severus' strong hands, by the man's mere presence... but it was hard.

"There is a recipe," Severus said at last. "I understand it is extraordinarily difficult to brew."

"A potion?" Draco leaned forward in his chair. "Surely you can brew it, Severus."

"Of course I can. The question is do you really want to spend the time, not to mention the money, for the ingredients are not common, only to have an empty phlogiston base? It is the creation of the images that present the real obstacle." He looked at Remus again, eyes measuring.

Remus was never so inspired as he was when people he cared about needed help. "Perhaps you _could_ create a memory in the same way a Muggle film is made – having actors and actresses play out their parts, knowing that one or more of them would be losing the memories later."

Severus and Draco exchanged a look.

Their lack of expression, Remus took as encouragement. "You could even have an extra person there to be the 'camera' if you wanted – the one paid specifically to watch so that his memory could be extracted later. That way he wouldn't even be missing out on the experiences, since he was never in it in the first place."

"Interesting," Draco said, still watching Severus.

"Of course, there are a number of obstacles in that approach as well," the former Potions master said. "There would still have to be a director, you would have to pay all of the actors, plus any props or setting that was used would have to be purchased or created."

Remus shrugged impatiently. "No more so than for a Muggle movie, Severus, and possibly it would be less trouble. If you find a Muggle who knows something about the business - "

Draco raised both of his eyebrows then, and Remus sighed inwardly. Perhaps some things didn't change. "Or a Muggleborn or whoever. It doesn't matter. You could read books from the library on the subject, for Merlin's sake."

"Not just a director," Severus murmured. "You'd need a writer as well – someone to come up with the scene ahead of time."

Draco nodded slowly. "Especially if we were going to have several scenes strung together to tell a larger story. The director would have his hands full on each individual scene."

"I still think it's impractical," Severus said, "but it's a great deal easier to do than designing and building a memory from scratch."

"All right then," Remus said, feeling uncharacteristically reckless. "It's decided. You two can have this idea and do what you want to with it, and Severus, you'll join me for dinner tonight. My treat."

A noise came from Draco, but Remus had eyes only for Severus' face. It didn't give much away, but Remus could clearly see that there was no disgust waiting there for him.

For a moment, Remus wasn't sure if Severus was even going to answer him. But surely in this setting, face-to-face with him in Draco's office, he wouldn't just flatly ignore him... Surely.

"As you like," Severus said at last, prompting another, slightly more strangled-sounding noise from Draco, which they both ignored. "I'll meet you at seven at the place you mentioned."

Remus couldn't do much more than grin and nod. He managed to make his excuses, and Severus stood aside as he passed, watching him inscrutably.

-:-

Some voice of insecurity wondered why, exactly, Severus had agreed so readily to a date. Remus pushed that voice away, along with all the voices that wondered how he would handle the oncoming full moon, how he would pay off his other debts, where was _next_ month's rent going to come from. Tonight was a night for enjoyment, not for endless worries.

A few minutes before seven, he Apparated to Soho and made his way to the seafood restaurant he'd mentioned to Severus – how many days ago? – only to find Severus waiting for him. The host showed them to a table before Remus could do more than say 'hello,' and as he opened his menu to look it over, he hoped fervently that they would be able to find something to talk about. In other circumstances he might have resorted to talking business, or at least, Severus' business, but in this room full of Muggles, they would both have to watch what they said.

Severus didn't touch his menu, but sat watching Remus. Was that an amused expression? Possibly intrigued about something? Remus wasn't sure, but he thought he might be getting better at judging the man's mood. He indicated Severus' untouched menu. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I intend to. You did, after all, say you were buying."

Remus smiled. "I did. You already know what you want, then?" Before his imagination could get carried away with supposing what Severus might... _want_ , Remus rephrased his question. "Have you been here before?"

"No," Severus said. "But you said this is a seafood restaurant, so the decision is simple."

And he would say no more about it, until the waiter came to take their order. Remus raised his eyebrows when Severus asked for crab legs, but made no comment. He picked something, more or less at random, and turned his attention to his dinner companion.

Remus decided on a topic that seemed harmless enough, and nodded toward the huge fish tanks behind the bar, just visible from where they sat. "Interesting décor."

Severus said nothing, which Remus supposed he should have found annoying, but he couldn't help but think the amusement on Severus' face had increased, and that was all right with him.

He was content to let a little time pass in silence, alternately admiring something about the restaurant or watching Severus, who, after a few minutes of this, began to fidget with his wine glass. It drew attention to his hands, which Remus tried not to actually stare at, until finally Severus was the one who spoke.

"What is it you hope to accomplish here, Lupin?"

Remus glanced around at the crowded dining room. "Do you really want me to describe it in graphic detail, in public, Severus?"

Severus put down his glass quickly enough to slop the wine against the side of the glass. "That wasn't what I meant," he hissed.

"You did ask."

"I thought you would give me some rubbish about how innocent this was, how all you wanted was to 'spend time in my presence' or something equally ridiculous."

Remus was inclined to laugh, but he kept himself restrained to a smile out of deference for Severus' pride. "If you knew the answer you thought you would get, why did you ask?"

Severus leaned back in his chair, gazing away. "It wasn't the answer I got, was it?"

With that, he seemed inclined to look anywhere but at Remus, so Remus took advantage of the opportunity to study the man more thoroughly. Severus was dressed again in a well-made Muggle shirt, something that looked soft and at the same time crisp and clean. Remus could see an expanse of Severus' throat where the collar was open, a hint of collarbone, and he longed to touch – just there – to smell him again, taking a piece of Severus into himself with every breath.

 _I have kissed this man,_ he realized with a start. It seemed like something from one of his dreams. He'd better get his mind off of what he'd like to do to Severus before he said anything truly foolish.

"I was... surprised when you accepted my invitation."

Severus looked at him then, one appraising look, then away again. "In case you don't remember, you didn't ask this time; you told."

"I didn't think Severus Snape was the type to let anyone tell him what to do."

"Not anymore," Severus murmured, so softly Remus wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard. After a pause, he said in a normal voice, "I wanted the opportunity to thank you."

"Thank me? What for?"

"Your suggestions this morning. Our mutual acquaintance is convinced that something can be done, differently than the way we have been doing business, and to see him... enthused about a project again is a welcome change." Severus' tone had softened by then, and Remus felt himself smiling in response.

He was saved from having to say anything in response by the arrival of their dinners. Remus had some sort of tuna carpaccio, while Severus' crab legs had arrived on a bed of noodles, along with the required utensils for opening them up. Remus had barely taken two bites of his meal before his attention was completely arrested by watching Severus.

First, he removed a leg from the body of the crab with a practiced twist. Then he started from the tip of the leg, at each joint flexing once, twice, and then separating the sections with utmost care. There were ligaments and cartilage to remove, leaving the meat whole and untouched inside the shell Finally, Severus held the section of the leg in his hands, applying pressure with his thumbs until there was a _crack_. At that point he slowly, carefully, coaxed the meat out from the inside, keeping the chunk in one piece as he drew the shell away.

Remus realized he was staring, and he didn't stop when Severus popped the entire piece of crab meat into his mouth, letting his fingertip brush against his lip.

After Severus had finished the entire first leg without breaking a single piece of crab meat apart, Remus cleared his throat. "That's amazing." His voice was slightly hoarse, and he coughed, partially to clear it again and partially in embarrassment.

Severus popped the next leg off the body. "What do you mean?"

"I always have to use that little fork to get the bits out from inside."

Severus gave him a smug look and returned to his work. "You use too much force."

"Well, you have to, don't you? To get them open."

"Watch and learn." Severus took the longest part of the leg, again holding it by gripping each end in a hand, and pushed with his thumbs. "Too much force, and you'll break clean through." _Snap._ Again, the shell had cracked and the meat inside was intact.

Remus was watching, all right, watching as the hands he'd fantasized about were on display, the fingers he'd dreamed of sucking on busy applying _just the right touch_ and all of this an arm's reach away from him.

"Would you like to try it?" Severus offered.

Remus reached over the table took the the proffered segment, deliberately touching Severus' hand with his own as he did so. Severus made no comment, but took up another piece of the crab leg to demonstrate with. Remus held up his piece – it was the longest section, easiest to break – and gripped it in two hands just as Severus was doing.

"You may wish to turn it – snapping it on the side is easier than the flat." Remus did as suggested, and put as little pressure as he could onto the middle part of it.

 _Crack!_ The leg segment snapped clean through, shell and meat both, even flinging a tiny speck of crab meat into the air.

"Too much force." Severus' face was full of unsaid _I told you so_ 's, but the way the corner of his lips quirked upwards was enough to make Remus almost glad he had failed so spectacularly.

"I barely touched it!"

Severus shook his head. "These are not overcooked, as you so often see. It's another reason I can take the meat out properly." To prove his point, he took one of the shorter sections, with a thicker shell, and snapped it perfectly, without breaking apart the crab meat inside. Remus watched hungrily.

"You see?" Severus shook the meat out, tantalizingly slow. "It's not so much about strength as it is control."

It was Remus' turn to shake his head as he watched Severus pop the crab meat into his mouth with a look of bliss on his usually inexpressive face. He was beginning to think he was being teased – a development he wasn't sure he minded in the least.

Still, it probably wasn't a good idea to let Severus know just _how_ affected he was by the sight of those slender hands, working their magic on the delicate shells and tender crab meat. Remus turned his attention back to his own plate.

Severus kept at it, occasionally pausing for a sip of wine or to make use of his napkin. Remus found himself glancing up at every _snap_ , just to see, he told himself, whether Severus still had a perfect score. But it also gave him the pleasure of watching Severus coax – almost _caress_ – the chunks of meet out of the shell. That was the moment, with Severus fully concentrated on his task, that Remus felt the most attraction.

For just a moment, he let himself indulge in imagining Severus' fingers on him – that perfect combination of strength and self-control, stroking his face perhaps, or bare shoulders and chest, or – hips – _Severus, clutching at his hips as he slid inside, slowly, tantalizing, always in control_ –

Remus had to blink, and shake his head, and finally put down his fork before he could straighten out what was in his head. There had been a moment of a half-remembered scene, recollected only by his thoughts running in a similar vein... but now he couldn't think of where he'd seen it before. Impossible that he should have ever seen himself on a bed waiting for Severus, Severus' hands at his hips, pulling him closer...

"Lupin?"

There was something missing. His memory would not accept that such a thing with Severus had ever happened, and yet... it was like finding a hole in the ground only by walking up to it and feeling the solid ground all the way to the edge, then to feel the complete absence... What would explain it?

"Lupin, are you all right?"

"I think... I think I've forgot something," Remus said, feeling unsteady.

Severus was pressing something into his hand, something cold and heavy, and Remus raised it to his lips reflexively. Water brought him back to himself to some degree, and he managed to look up.

"Sorry. I'm all right."

Severus was looking at him as if he were _not_ all right, so he tried to smile, tried to explain. "I was just... thinking of something, and it felt like something was missing."

Slowly, Severus nodded. "You _are_ missing a few, after all."

"Not that."

"Don't say 'Oh, I'd remember _that_ , I'd never forget _that_ ,' because the whole point is that once you take them out of your head, they're not there anymore." Severus spoke in a low voice, but intently. He was taking this rather seriously, Remus realized.

"It felt like I'd forgotten something, but it's something that I'm sure never happened. So it couldn't really be missing, because it was never there to miss." He rubbed at his temples. "Look, it's probably nothing."

Severus signaled for the waiter. "If you want to take a chance with 'probably,' that's your own decision. The smarter thing to do would be to consult with an expert about it. If you only had one available." He gave Remus a pointed look.

"All right, all right." Remus held up his hands in defeat. "But not here."

-:-

They had headed back to the offices of Fair Weather Fantasies, which surprised Remus at first until he thought it was probably the safest place to hold any real discussion of magical topics, without going to one of their own homes.

"And besides," Severus said, "I live there."

Oh.

Severus glared at him sidelong as they walked. "The implication you should take from that is that I have access to all of my equipment, in case it becomes necessary." The tone of his voice made it clear he knew exactly what implication Remus had first been thinking of, but the thought that Severus had _known_ what he was thinking of cheered him somewhat.

Finally, they arrived, and Severus took him down to the potions laboratory where he'd met with Draco the first time.

"Now," Severus commanded, "tell me everything. What were you thinking of before you... faltered, back at the restaurant, what were you remembering, what did you think might be missing?"

Remus hesitated. He knew very well what he'd been thinking of: it was the image of Severus' hands that had done it, that and imagining the way they might look against Remus' hips and arse, pulling him close, ready for the moment of penetration...

He blinked. He'd almost done it again, tripped right up to the edge of the missing memory.

"Well?"

"I was thinking about your hands," Remus said slowly. In for a penny, in for a pound, or so his mum had always told him. And Severus was the expert, after all. Still, he could probably save them both the embarrassment that would result from being _too_ explicit. "I... I was imagining them... in an intimate moment. And it felt like I had seen them just that way already, but the actual memory of it was gone."

"That's impossible," Severus snapped.

"That's what I've been saying," Remus said, exasperated. "It couldn't have happened because it didn't happen, so why does it seem like I should remember something that couldn't have happened?"

Severus was silent for a moment. Remus let himself not think about the problem, just watch as Severus tried to puzzle out another option. He would never win any beauty contests, Remus knew, but there was something about him. The intensity he had, the focus and yes, the strength.

"You say you almost remember seeing... _that_ before."

"Yes."

"Do you remember _feeling_ it? Or, do you almost remember feeling the sensations, in the same way you almost remember seeing it?"

Remus had to stop and consider. He closed his eyes, and tried to imagine what Severus' hands would feel like, but got none of the odd déjà vu that he'd gotten with the visual input.

"I'm not sure." He didn't open his eyes.

"It could be an important question, Lupin."

"Earlier... at the restaurant, I had the actual sight of your hands in front of me to prompt the memory, or lack thereof."

Footsteps went back and forth as Severus resumed pacing, then paused and approached him. The scent of Severus came to him too, unmistakable, and Remus opened his eyes to see Severus not two feet away from him, not meeting his gaze.

"See what this prompts, then," Severus said gruffly, and reached out to him.

Remus was shocked into immobility as Severus' hand touched the side of his face, thumb caressing the length of his jaw as tenderly as any lover might do. He was not used to this kind of intimate physical contact, and when he had been used to it, years ago, these light caresses had almost universally given way to the fullness of his passion. His body reacted instantly, hungry for more, and it was all he could do not to surge out of his seat and take Severus in a kiss, like the one they had shared already.

All too soon, Severus pulled his hand away, stepped back and was completely out of reach. Remus had to exercise his self-mastery once more to clear his throat and try to make a response. To say what he was really think would, he saw at once, be offensive to Severus, and he would not do anything to lessen the likelihood of future contact between them – especially if the contact was of such an intimate, sensual nature.

"I would have to say," Remus said, "after due consideration, I'm fairly sure that the, ah, the _sensations_ were not part of any kind of 'missing' memory. Only the visual."

Severus' look softened slightly, from 'on edge' to merely 'guarded.' "So it didn't bring anything up for you?"

Despite himself, Remus had to smile ruefully at that. It certainly had brought something "up" – something, in fact, that even now was wishing for a better chance of attention being paid to it in the very near future. But he didn't think Severus would be interested in hearing about _that_ , so he shook his head.

"That's a good sign. It means it wasn't something that actually happened, which can put both of us at ease."

"Of course," Remus sighed.

"Now." Severus leaned against a counter-top and began to drum his fingers against its surface. "We need to consider other possibilities. If it was something you saw, and not experienced, it could have been a memory you saw in a Pensieve, though it would have had to have been a false one, and as I was telling Draco earlier, I don't believe such a thing can be easily done."

"All right, I'll take your word for it. What else?"

"Perhaps it was someone who looked like me, someone from a..."

"A what?"

"From some sort of movie, perhaps." Severus wasn't looking at him as he said this, and Remus took a second to delight in the idea of finding "some sort of movie" that had a Severus look-alike in explicit scenes, but he had to shake his head.

"Couldn't be. I'm absolutely convinced it was you, and it was me."

Severus made a noise of frustration. "But how could you have _seen_ yourself without experiencing what was happening?"

The way he phrased it brought back a memory to Remus. "A dream, maybe?"

"A dream? Most people don't dream of seeing themselves doing things; they dream of _doing_ things."

"Yes, but..." Remus tried to think more clearly, to recollect what had happened. Something about a dream, about moving from inside the dream to merely viewing what was happening. "The details are fuzzy, but I seem to remember there was a dream I had where I was doing just that. Watching from the outside, as it were."

"Watching... that?"

"Well, I _have_ dreamed about that, more than once, Severus." Remus kept his voice light, but he wanted Severus to know exactly what he meant.

A few moments' pause, and then Severus brought them back to the matter at hand. "Well then, why is it missing?"

Watching Severus puzzle over this question was almost completely distracting to Remus, but when the meaning of his words had sunk in, he could have kicked himself. "What an idiot I am," he murmured.

Severus' eyes were fixed on him in a moment. "What is it? You know where the memory of the dream is?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do." Remus rose to his feet, preparing to leave. "It's in my refrigerator."

"You... _what_?"

"I'm sorry to have given you such trouble. If I'd have known what it would lead to, I'm certain I never would have bothered taking the dreams out in the first place."

Severus still seemed to have trouble getting through the shock. "But... _how_ could you have done such a thing?"

Remus frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "It was the middle of the night when I woke up. I think I was having trouble separating dreams from reality, and thought if I could just get rid of the dreams I could make sure I only had the reality. As preferable as the dreams may have been."

"Lupin. What you're talking about is not an easy task. Your mind would first have to hold onto the dream entirely, and be absolutely sure about which was which. And the dream would have a much lighter, thinner consistency... where did you say you put it?"

"It doesn't matter, does it? The mystery is solved."

"On the contrary, Lupin. If you were truly able to remove your dreams and keep them from deteriorating, as dreams tend to do, then this whole situation is remarkable."

Remus was still not much judge of Severus' expressions, but he seemed to be in earnest. "What do you mean, deteriorating?"

"Haven't you ever noticed that dreams tend to fade from your memory? Unless you reinforce a dream by talking about it or writing it down, it will disappear right out of your mind. The same thing happens when you remove a dream. We don't trade in them here because they evaporate after a few days."

"I haven't actually looked in the cup for a few days," Remus admitted.

Severus picked up his wand from where he'd laid it on the counter-top. "Then let's go and have a look."

While they walked from the nearest Apparition point up the stairs to Remus' flat, he had time to process what had happened so far that evening. First the dinner, with his strange failure of memory and Severus' odd solicitude, and from there to the potions lab, with the even stranger conversation and Severus... Severus touching him. Now they were going back to Remus' place, apparently intent on finding out what happened to the dream he'd pulled out of his mind several days prior.

"Severus?" Remus paused outside his door, trying to think of how to phrase the question politely, and finally gave up. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Severus glanced down the hall. "Professional interest," he said.

Remus shrugged. "I hope you know I have more than a professional interest in _you_." He turned away to open the door, not really ready to see how Severus responded to that.

The flat was tiny, and Remus kept it as neat as he could. The "kitchen" was really just an alcove with a miniature fridge and a stove-top, with cabinets above and below. Severus didn't say anything, for which Remus was grateful, and they both bent to look in the refrigerator.

"Here," Remus said, pulling out his water-glass. They peered in it, Severus' hair falling gently against Remus' shoulder, but he did nothing other than breathe slightly more deeply to try to remember this sensation. "It looks the same to me."

The glass was partly full with a wispy, silvery fluid – somewhere between liquid and gas.

"The cold must have preserved it," Severus murmured. "Do you mind if I examine the integrity?"

He had his wand out, and was reaching toward the surface of the dream before Remus stopped him. "I don't know if it's something you want to see."

"I remember." Severus considered. "Do you think you could do it again? Remove a dream, I mean?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't see why not."

They continued looking into the glass for a few more moments, until Severus put it back into the refrigerator and closed the door.

"So what does this mean?" Remus asked.

Severus ticked the possibilities off on his fingers. "First, it's possible that the dream-substance could be used as a base, instead of the potion I mentioned to Draco. Second, the elements of a large number of dreams could be recombined to make new... products for our customers. With proper editing and transitions, of course, but it would be simpler than creating them from nothing. Third..." Something apparently occurred to Severus then, for he faltered and looked almost uncomfortable.

"Third?" Remus softened his voice.

"Third, you could sell the technique to us, or to anyone who could pay, and not have to deal with us again."

Severus had gone back to not meeting his eyes, but he was still standing near enough for Remus to reach, so he touched Severus' arm. Just once to get him to look at him, and then Remus drew away again. "Not have to deal with you again? That's the last thing I want."

Severus was looking at him intently now. "And what's the first thing you want?"

Remus felt his heart pick up a bit of speed. "Shall I describe it in graphic detail for you?"

"We're not in public any longer, Lupin."

"No," Remus agreed, and just as he was wondering if Severus could possibly be implying what he seemed to be implying, Severus was moving towards him, a look on his face Remus would have to call "determined," and then he decided it was really more like "I'm about to kiss you."

And then he did.

Remus couldn't control himself any longer. With all the stresses of the evening, and despite the occasional hints of encouragement, he had not imagined Severus being the one to make an opening move like this. But he wanted to leave no doubt of his opinion on the matter.

He kissed Severus back, trying to match Severus, but his lips quickly became more demanding. His hands went to Severus' waist, pulling him closer, trying to be gentle, but then Severus had got the idea and moved their bodies together, pressing Remus against his tiny table. When a hand reached up to Remus' face, thumb stroking the side of his face, he had to pull away, at least enough to see Severus, to try to guess what he was thinking.

Severus was breathing hard, looking down at the space between them, and Remus couldn't guess anything. He shifted his hips experimentally, not wanting to lose whatever momentum they may have been starting to build up, and Severus responded with a low groan, looking up again, allowing Remus to see the desire there.

Desire – and something else. Remus gave another roll of his hips, providing delightful friction against his own erection but, thanks to the unfortunate angle of their bodies, not giving him more than a hint of Severus'. A hint was tantalizing. He slid his hand down along Severus' body, keeping his eyes fixed on Severus', until he could feel the hard length under Severus' trousers. He palmed it as best he could, watching with gratification as Severus shuddered and caught his breath.

This was definitely not the time to bring up anything Severus had once said about not being gay.

Remus leaned in to trail a few kisses along Severus' neck. "Come with me to the bedroom?"

Roughly, Severus nodded.

It didn't take long to get to the bedroom in the small flat, and it was all Remus could do to try and let Severus show him how much he was ready for. Stopping him before they'd reached the bedroom door for another kiss in the hallway was a good sign.

Somehow they reached the bedroom at last. Before Severus could start to feel uncertain about any of this, Remus had him on the bed, and that quickly led to pulling enough clothing aside that he could reach inside Severus' pants. Part of his mind noticed that all of Severus' clothing was incredibly soft, and fit him as if it had been made just for him, but the rest of him was too busy concentrating on the physical sensations.

Severus grasped his shoulders when Remus' hand went around his cock, and they rolled on the bed until Remus was underneath. He didn't mind, nor did he mind when Severus crushed his hand between their bodies. A moment later, the pressure had decreased enough to let him move his hand again, and the next thing he knew Severus was moving his hands over Remus' chest, pulling at his shirt, all the while kissing the side of Remus' neck, the tender spot just below his ear. His hips bucked of their own accord when Severus shoved his trousers and pants down, out of the way, exposing his aching cock to the air. He was more than repaid for it by the feel of their cocks rubbing together, hands getting in the way of each other, until Remus had to gasp and throw his head back onto the pillow.

Severus didn't stop, but sped up his hand moving over them, controlling Remus' hand too, sliding a thumb through the liquid at each of their tips and smearing it as his strong hand continued its stroke. His body tensed, held rigid over Remus for just a moment, and then Severus' mouth was on him again, fluttery kisses against his mouth and then more substantial ones along his neck and the juncture of his shoulder. Remus felt a sharp pain as Severus must have used his teeth, but he didn't care, only rejoiced when he felt Severus tighten and release, pumping out his orgasm onto Remus' stomach. His hand slowed then, but Remus was taking up the slack already at a more languid pace, full of the enjoyment of Severus' own climax, so that when his own came it was less frantic, rocking through him in a steady wave.

A time passed before either of them moved, but finally Severus half-rolled and half-fell onto his side, still touching comfortably along most of their bodies, though Remus thought the clothes they still had on were going to have to go.

He turned to see Severus looking at him, and there was nothing he wanted less than to give Severus a reason to be sorry for what they'd shared. "Thanks."

Severus didn't answer.

"Did I mention I didn't like your third possibility?"

Severus was beginning to relax, and Remus imagined he saw the start of a smile. "Neither did I."

Remus turned onto his side, propping himself on an elbow to better see what it was like to have Severus Snape in his bed. "You know, nothing in the world could make me give up _this_ memory."

"Oh?" Severus gave him an arch expression, somewhere between joking and serious. "Even if there were more like it in the future?"

Remus grinned. "Especially if there were more like it."

-:-


End file.
